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samoschier · 3 months
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skjei gone, pesce gone, noesen gone, teuvo gone, necas still up in the air, i am going to actually lose it
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samoschier · 4 months
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thinking about nolan moyle x inexperienced!reader🤔
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samoschier · 4 months
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samoschier · 4 months
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࿐ 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫
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mackie samoskevich. nico hischier. nolan moyle. pyotr kochetkov. andrei svechnikov. brady skjei. luke hughes. ethan edwards. dawson mercer. brendan brisson.
— will maybe add more. may write for a player not listed upon request!
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samoschier · 4 months
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samoschier · 4 months
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✧˖*°࿐ 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲
— venus. 𝐱𝐱. she/her. hockey luvr. 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. certified 𝐦𝐬𝟐𝟓 𝐟𝐚𝐧. 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬. nico hischier 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐥.
this is a mostly sfw blog but there will be nsfw content that will be marked accordingly so for that i ask that 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢.
— 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭…
— 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫…
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banners from @cafekitsune
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samoschier · 5 months
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GREEN, YELLOW, RED — luke hughes
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SUMMARY! in which the reader (who has been been talking to luke) shows up to a traffic light themed party at UMich wearing green (green = single, yellow = talking stage / it’s complicated, red = taken) and he shows up wearing red
INVOLVED! luke x reader 
WARNINGS! 
BEFORE YOU START! i don’t know how the hughes act irl! this is just an imagination!
extra! 
find my masterlist → here!
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“Haven’t you been talking to Luke for like almost a year now?” Your roommate asked, as you were deciding between which green top to wear.
“Yeah, so what,” you said, absentmindedly, making a decision to pick the lacy green top over the knitted one. 
“You don’t want to wear yellow or maybe red?”
“Well, Luke and I are only talking and I don’t think it’s that serious so might as well have fun tonight,” you muttered, putting on your black chunky boots on. “I’ll bet that he shows up wearing green tonight too.”
You and your roommate called an Uber and made your way to the house where the frat was throwing tonight. You were already one drink in, just because you had a rule with drinking at frats.
The party was already going when the two of you arrived and you headed into the house to say your hellos. You smiled at a few people on the way up the driveway and as you walked in, your nose scrunched due to the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies.
Not even five minutes later, you were approached by one of the players on the football team who was also wearing green and the two of you started making friendly conversation.
You guys talked about the basics– major, year, and all that stuff.
“So what’s your major?” He asked.
You leaned in closer to hear him over the thumping music.
“Pharmacy, you?”
“I’m pre-med,” he said, smiling down at you.
“So you not only you’re smart, you’re athletic too,” you said, flirting back. 
“You’re smart as hell, too,” he said back. “Wanna go outside?”
You nodded as you followed him to the back patio where there was barely anyone out there. You stood where your line of vision was towards the inside of the house, clearly visible to the people inside. 
The two of you chatted before you felt the brisk air engulf you and shivers ran down your spine. He clearly noticed and led you back inside where the door opened and walked in a few hockey guys. You held your breath as the boys made their way in, Luke being the last to entered.
Your jaw dropped in surprise when you saw him wearing red.
There was no way the guy you had been talking to for almost a year was in a relationship.
You excused yourself from the conversation and made your way to where your roommate was, whispering in her ear that you were going to call an Uber and head back to your apartment and call it a night.
You smiled at a few hockey boys, passing them as you headed to leave.
“Hey, y/n,” you heard from behind you.
You turned around and saw the football player you had been talking to moments before. 
“If you wanna go study sometime and complain about how hard our classes are, just shoot me a text,” he said, being friendly, connecting your phones together– airdropping your contact to him. 
“I definitely take you up on that offer. Nice meeting ya. I’ll see you tomorrow for P-Chem,” you said cheerfully, glad that you made a new friend tonight. 
You pulled your phone to call an Uber and before you could, you could feel someone standing in front of you.
“What’s u–,” you started, stopping when you saw who was standing in front of you.
Luke.
“Oh, hi,” you said, acting indifferent. 
“Why are you wearing green?” He asked you, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? Don’t you think how I look now. Talking to a guy who had a girlfriend the whole time. I look so fucking stupid and you’re a fucking idiot. I can’t believe you Luke.”
“What are you talking about, y/n?” Luke asked, looking confused. 
“You’re wearing red, idiot,” you said, taking a jab at his chest. “I’m going to go home and you are not going to talk to me ever again,” you said, getting ready to take off. 
“Y/n, let me explain,” you heard from behind you, chasing after you.
“Explain what? Explain to your girlfriend that you cheated on her you motherfucker. We’ve been sleeping together, talking to each other for almost a fucking year. Didn’t even have the decency to tell me you had a girlfriend.”
“I don’t have another girlfriend,” Luke blurted out.
“Then why are you wearing red? Didn’t get the memo or something?”
“I thought that we were seeing each other and no one else,” Luke tried explaining. “And I equated that to us being together. I thought you were going to wear yellow at the very least,” he said, disappointed. “Are you seeing anyone else? Is that why you’re wearing green?”
You could feel your head spinning.
He didn’t have a another girlfriend. Another? Did he consider you his girlfriend?.
“Luke you never asked me out. How was I supposed to know that we are together?” You questioned, glaring at him. 
“You’re telling me that me not coming to your apartment at least three times a week after practice bringing you food, me sleeping over all the time, me inviting you to literally everything I do– all the small errands I need to run is us still talking?”
“To me, it is,” you responded back. “Guys always do that kind of shit where they act like boyfriends and then when you bring it up, they act all defensive and say that you are acting crazy for even assuming that. I’ve just stopped assuming because of that.”
“Y/n. You’re the only girl I’ve liked like this. I’m sorry I fucked up like this. I’m sorry that I didn’t communicate my feelings towards you. In my eyes, you’re my girlfriend,” Luke said, approaching you, his face littered in apologies.
You gave him a small smile. “And to answer your question, I’m not seeing anyone else. I haven’t been since we started talking,” you said, shugging your shoulders.
“Still wanna go to your apartment?”
“Yes, please,” you said, following Luke to his car.
He opened the door for you and you smiled like an idiot.
“I’m sorry for calling you an idiot by the way,” you said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It;s okay. I was an idiot,” Luke said, driving to your apartment, stopping by a Taco place that closed late.
“What do you want to get?” He asked you, stepping out of the car to go get some food. 
“The usual, pleaseeee,” you begged. 
After Luke had the tacos and your favorite agua fresca flavor, the two of you headed to the apartment where he followed you inside. You guys made your way into the living room where Luke placed the food on the coffee table and you went into your room to change into some comfy clothes and take off your makeup and contacts.
You grabbed one of Luke’s hockey hoodies and some sweatpants before coming into your bathroom. You took your contacts out and Luke followed you into the bathroom.
“Let me,” he said, grabbing the micellar water and washcloth from your hand.
He lifted you so that you sat on the bathroom counter and he placed himself between your legs.
“Close your eyes, baby,” he said, giving you a small kiss on the lips before shaking the micellar water and putting it on the washcloth. 
He gently started rubbing your face with the washcloth until your face was makeup free. He rinsed out the washcloth before hanging it up to dry.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, giving you one more final kiss on the cheek before lifting you and placing you back on the ground.
“Thanks, Luke,” you said, fiddling with your hoodie strings. 
“I’m just gonna change first before we eat,” Luke said, staying in your bedroom as you ventured onto the couch, grabbing the blanket. 
You made yourself comfy before putting on a Criminal Minds episode to watch. 
“You left your glasses on your nightstand,” Luke said, coming to sit besides you, handing you your glasses.
You put them on and he smiled at you.
“What are you smiling at?”
“Just admiring my beautiful girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend, huh,” you questioned.
“You’re my girlfriend and I’m your boyfriend,” Luke said, pulling you into his lap. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
He started playing with your hair as you started chowing down on your tacos. Before you knew it, the tacos were done and you were falling asleep to Luke playing with your hair, occasionally kissing the top of your head. 
The last thing you remember was Luke bringing you to your bed and tucking you in, placing a kiss on your forehead. 
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
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samoschier · 5 months
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‘tis the damn season // qh43
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quinn hughes x fem!reader [4.6k]
summary: after you and quinn run into each other for the first time since the break up, years and years of memories come flooding back, and suddenly you find yourself saying yes to a weekend away with him warnings: angst, fluff, language, kissing a/n: this might be one of my favorite things i've written and i think that's partially because this is one of my favorite taylor songs
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Little flurries fall from the gray sky; coating the ground to create a crunch underneath your feet as you walk down the sidewalk.
Your hands are frozen by the time you enter the little coffee shop hidden on the corner of the street, its warmth welcoming you back like an old friend.
The barista smiles as you approach the counter. Your order is quick and simple, and soon enough you're standing off to the side as you wait.
Your head is buried in your phone, looking at the long list of emails from your manager that you’d neglected to answer. 
Then you hear it. His name. Quinn.
Surely it isn’t him. Your head shoots up, and sure enough, he’s standing at the side of the counter. He reaches forward to grab his coffee, thanking the employee before he turns, and then he’s walking towards you.
You're frozen in place, you can’t move. He looks up, eyes locking with yours, and suddenly he’s frozen too.
The last time the two of you had seen each other in person was three years ago, and your departure had been… less than ideal.
“What do you mean you’re moving to New York?” His tone is harsh and accusing. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Quinn—” You try, but he’s quick to cut you off.
“We live together! How are we supposed to be in a relationship if we’re in different countries?”
He wasn’t listening. “We can do long distance, but my agent—”
“We did long distance, for almost two years and it fucking sucked.” Quinn tries to steady his voice as he swallows the lump in his throat. “We’ve been together for five years, and you’re just going to throw that away?”
Hot tears roll down your face as you let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through your hair. “You’re not listening—”
The sound of his voice as he says your name pulls you out of your thoughts. He looks at you expectantly, and you realize that he’s waiting for a response.
“Sorry! I just,” you fumble over your words. “I wasn’t expecting—”
“To see me?” He finishes for you. Quinn looks around at the coffee shop. “Well, this was our favorite coffee shop.”
Our. Not his, not yours, ours. Suddenly there’s an ache in your chest that you’ve felt before, and it returns with such ferocity that it’s almost like it never left. Maybe it never did leave, instead choosing to sit heavily on your heart like a weight you’d simply gotten accustomed too. 
You watch as his wording sinks in, and you know there’s an ache in him too, the same one you had put there all those years ago. 
Quinn smiles and suddenly your chest feels a little lighter. You’d forgotten how much you missed seeing it. “It’s good to see you.”
“Is it?’ You ask, unsure on whether or not you want to hear his answer. After all, you were the one who walked out the door and never came back.
He gives you a look and that confirms it. “Of course it is.”
A beat passes before the two of you start laughing. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” You trail off.
“Awkward?” Quinn offers, raising his brows. Your face reddens, that’s exactly what it was, and you hate that. Quinn was someone you had known since the ripe age of eleven, and at one point he was someone you’d intended on spending the rest of your life with.
But all of that was gone now, you hadn’t spoken in three years, of course it would be awkward. The person in front of you was different from the one you left behind; he still looked the same, smiled the same, but he was different.
Quinn takes your silence as an answer. He opens his mouth, beginning to say something before he stops himself. You can see the fight he’s having with himself, trying to decide if he should say what he wants too.
When he does open his mouth, you’re expecting to hear the words “it was good seeing you, take care,” but instead he says, “do you want to sit down with me?”
You stare at him for a moment, blinking a couple times as if you were unsure that you had heard him right. Suddenly, Quinn isn’t sure he should’ve said that.
“I understand if you don’t wan—”
You’re quick to cut him off, “no, I do! I just, I wasn’t expecting that.”
A beat passed before the two of you began laughing. You forgot how much you lived that sound, Quinn laughing. Once you’ve regained yourself, you start over. “I would love to sit down with you.”
A soft smile graces his face as he makes his way toward an empty table in the corner, and even though so much time has passed, he almost reaches to take your hands on instinct.
After a few minutes of talking, the air of awkwardness has disappeared and for a split second it’s like everything is back to normal. He asks how your parents have been and you ask about his, a ball of guilt forming in your stomach at the lack of communication you’ve had with them over the years.
He tells you about how Jack and Luke are doing, and what it’s like being the captain of an NHL team. You nod and listen, not letting into the fact that you haven’t missed a single Canucks game in years.
It isn’t until your phone dings with a message from your mom that you realize how long you’ve been talking. “Oh wow, I didn’t even realize how late it was.”
You look back up at Quinn, who’s checking his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m supposed to be back for dinner.”
“Yeah, no, I get it. We just lost track of time.” He says, following suit as you stand up.
The two of you stand there for a moment, not quite sure what the appropriate goodbye is. Without thinking too hard on it, Quinn pulls you into a hug. You melt into his embrace, only allowing yourself to enjoy it for a couple of seconds before pulling away.
“I really enjoyed talking to you again.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m… I’m glad I got to see you.”
“I’m glad I got to see you too.” Quinn’s voice is soft, matching the small smile on his face.
The ache in your chest almost doubles when you turn your back to him, and before he knows it, you’re walking away from him, again.
He’s not sure what exactly inspires the wave of courage that washes over him, but suddenly he’s calling your name. You barely have a chance to turn around before the words leave Quinn’s mouth.
“Would you want to come to the lake house with me? Just for the weekend?” He realizes it’s a shot in the dark, but he had to try.
You try to control the wave of emotions that roll over you. A part of you is hesitant, but today has reminded you of how much you missed him. Being in his presence hadn’t allowed you to hide those feelings away like you’d been doing for the past couple of years.
So without a second though, you respond. “Yes.”
At dinner that night, you mention to your mom that you would be spending the weekend with a friend, omitting the fact that Quinn was said friend. You knew how she would react.
She had been disappointed when you and Quinn broke up, and you couldn’t have her getting all excited at the fact that you would be spending the weekend with him, alone.
Because then she would start talking about how the two of you should get back together, and you couldn’t have that. Not when you had spent so long burying those same thoughts away.
The drive to the lake house is quiet and familiar. You’re almost scared to speak when Quinn moves his hand, brushing it against yours.
You’re not sure if he did it on purpose, but when he doesn’t move it away, you move yours closer; just ever so slightly so your pinkies are resting on top of each other.
He curls his around yours and you can’t help the smile that appears on your face. You could allow yourself to have this, just this once, just for the weekend and then you would go back to New York after the holidays and he would go back to Vancouver. 
The lake house is a sight for sore eyes. It has you wondering if you’re going to go inside and everything will feel different. But it doesn’t, everything is almost the same. It takes you a second to catch the picture frame on the mantel under the TV. It’s a picture of you and Quinn, one that Jack had taken. 
You’re on the boat, Quinn sitting in the driver's seat with you on his lap, head thrown back and laughing about who knows what. Quinn has his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling backwards, looking at you with as much love and adoration as someone could give.
Quinn’s voice breaks you out of your reminiscing. “I uh, I just never got around to taking it down.”
You shrug, placing the picture frame back down into its spot while hoping that your voice doesn’t break when you speak. “No, I get it.”
Quinn watches silently as you make your way around the house you used to love so much, trying to refamiliarize yourself with it. Nothing’s changed much, from what you can tell. The scratches on the living room floor from the couch being pushed back after some rough housing were still there. The cream colored curtains you picked out hadn’t been changed either. 
Though you hadn’t stepped foot in the house in years, there was still so much of you around, things you had picked out, pictures you were in, you were everywhere. It made you wonder about the other girls he brought here, could they feel your presence?
Could they tell you were still here, in every way except physically? 
The thought of Quinn bringing some other girl here made you sick. You would be stupid to think there hadn’t been others, the two of you had been broken up for three years now. But still, the thought of some girl sleeping in your— his bed, made you sick to your stomach.
This was supposed to be your place, the one he bought when you thought you were going to spend the rest of your lives together. It was intended to be a place you could bring your kids to for weekend getaways or vacations in the summer. But it wasn’t that place anymore, and the fact that it never would be scared the hell out of you.
Turning around, you faced him once again. You didn’t want to know about the girls, if he brought them here, if he didn’t.
No, what you wanted was him. Even if it was just for the weekend, even if you would leave after Christmas and go back to your normal life, without Quinn.
Before you can think too much about it, you’re stepping forward. Closer and closer until you’re stopped right in front of him, lips only inches away from his. 
The air is thick, and tension settles over you like a blanket. You're searching his eyes, for something, anything, but come up empty. When did he become unreadable? 
The mental debate is cut short because suddenly Quinn is leaning down, and then you’re meeting him halfway; your hands reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair. One of his hands is gripping your waist tightly while the other finds the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer into him.
You feel weak in the knees when his tongue pushes its way into your mouth. The kiss is familiar and has your heart racing a million miles an hour in your chest.
Nothing is said when the two of you finally pull away and heavy breathing fills the silence instead. The two of you stand there for a moment, foreheads pressed together and completely wrapped up in each other's arms.
No words are exchanged, but you both know what this is, an unspoken agreement to each other’s for the weekend, but it ends there. And that was okay, that would have to be okay, because after three years without him, you’d settle for a few days of something rather than nothing. 
Quinn’s the first one to pull away. He stares for a second, and you search his eyes, trying to figure out what’s going through his head. He looks like he wants to say something, and for a second your chest tightens, you think you know what he’s going to say. Quinn has that look on his face, it used to be so easy to read him, but now you’re not so sure anymore.
“I went to one of your concerts.” His face shifts. That wasn’t what he was going to say, but it catches you by surprise regardless. 
“What?”
“I went to one of your concerts,” he says again, more confident in his voice. “About two years ago. You were in Vancouver and I thought why not.”
You know exactly what he’s talking about. You had seen him, although, back then you just thought you were imagining him, that your mind was playing tricks on you. It had been his song you were singing after all; the one you had written for him back when you thought you would get married someday.
“I saw you. But I just thought, I thought I was seeing things.” Was all you managed to say.
“Yeah, I…” Quinn takes a second to clear his throat. “I thought about texting you afterwards, but it just didn’t— I didn’t—”
“No, I get it.” You’re not sure what else to say, or how to say it. But Quinn knows, he understands. Unsaid words had always been easy with him, it almost makes you wonder at what point it hadn’t become easy. At what point in your relationship had the silence you’d grown so fond of become heavy and suffocating?
No other words are exchanged after that. You pull away from Quinn completely and your heart aches in the absence of his warmth. He drops your hand before moving to pick up the bags you had packed and bringing them to the bedroom you used to share.
The rest of the day got easier as it went along. Neither of you talked about the kiss, because you knew talking about it would open a whole other can of worms, and you weren’t ready for that, not yet at least. Instead, the two of you spent the rest of the evening just talking.
Quinn had always been so easy to talk to, he was always content to be the listener, just happy to hear the sound of your voice, and that hadn’t changed. It was nice to be able to catch up, really catch up; a lot had happened in the three years that you had been missing from each other’s lives.
Quinn had gotten named captain, which you were still sad you missed, you had almost sent him a congratulations text the night it was announced, but felt it was inappropriate.
Your career had really taken off, Quinn loved hearing about all your favorite moments on tour and he hadn’t been shy in letting you know that he listened to all of your songs. 
When it came time to go to sleep, you weren’t entirely sure what was going to happen, but it was almost like Quinn read your mind with the way he took hold of your hand and dragged you to the bedroom you used to share. Your heart pounded so loud in your chest that you were positive he could hear it when he laid down, the feeling of him lying next to you was almost dizzying. 
A sigh of relief escapes your throat when you wake up with his arms around you. It wasn’t a dream, this was real. This was real. For a second, you think about reaching for your phone to check the time, but you don’t, it was almost as if you were scared that Quinn would disappear if you couldn’t feel him.
So instead, you choose to settle your head back onto his chest, eyes falling shut once again while listening to the rhythmic thumping of his heart.
By the time you wake up again, you realize that you’ve slept half the day away. Quinn’s already staring at you when you tilt your head up to look at him, he’s silent as he reaches a hand up to brush your hair out of your face. 
You’re first to break the silence. “We should probably get up.”
“Do we really?” He asks and you give him a look, one that Quinn recognizes easily. He sighs, “yeah, okay.”
He lets you drag him out of the bed, but you two go your separate ways as you walk toward the bathroom and he goes toward the kitchen. By the time you’ve showered and changed, Quinn has breakfast –or brunch more like it– ready. 
Quinn hands you a mug, filled to the brim with coffee, and you can’t help but smile through the ache in your chest at the sight of it. It was your mug, the one you bought the first time you and Quinn ever spent summer at the lakehouse. It had been from some little gift shop you had found while out walking around. 
A pang hit your chest at the realization that you had forgotten about it. You manage a smile. “Thank you.”
He returns the grin, and the two of you sit down to eat.
The rest of the day is spent walking around and visiting all the little shops you had missed so dearly. At some point, Quinn had grabbed onto your hand. It caught you off guard at first and for a moment you were unsure if he did it on purpose, but then he didn’t, and you let yourself relax.
His grip around your hand tightened, like he was trying to ground himself, like he was scared that if he let go, you’d leave, again.
Part of it scares you, the way it’s so easy to slip back into old habits, but the other part of you is relieved, and the burden resting like a weight on your chest that you had grown so accustomed to lightens.
You ignore the way everything reminds you of what made you fall in love with Quinn in the first place, instead choosing to focus on the now, on the time you would get to have with him.
On your way home, Quinn stops at what used to be one of your favorite take out restaurants before the two of you are cuddling up together on the couch to eat it. Surprise overcomes you as the opening credits of the movie he picked out to begin to play. 
“I thought you hated this movie!” Your tone is accusatory as Quinn tries to hide the smile on his face. “You always complained every time I asked to watch it.”
“Maybe I just like giving you a hard time.” He replies. Quinn did hate the movie, but after the two of you broke up, he found himself putting it on the TV whenever he started missing you a little too much. 
You rolled your eyes. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He smiles as you turn away from him, eyes focusing on the screen in front of you.
Your food is finished about thirty minutes into the movie, and somewhere along the way you adjust to rest your head on Quinn’s shoulder. He takes this as a sign to pull you closer into his side, unable to help the way he almost melts into you at the feeling of your body pressed against his.
After a few more minutes, Quinn places his hand on your thigh, gently brushing his hand up and down. Your breath hitches in your throat when it drifts a little too high, and you can feel his gaze against the side of your face.
When you turn to look at him, he takes a minute to stare. For a second, you almost feel self conscious with the way his eyes glaze over you, but then he’s pulling you into a kiss. It’s brief before he breaks away, taking the chance to pull your leg over his lap so you’re straddling him.
Quinn wastes no time in pressing his mouth to yours, and it makes you smile against him, the way you’re making out like two teenagers who can’t keep their hands off of each other. His hands slide down to grip your ass, holding you firmly in place.
You can feel him smile, but you don’t think much of it until suddenly he’s standing up from the couch. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist and he carries you off to the bedroom as 27 Dresses plays in the background, long forgotten.
The next two days are spent almost the same, driving around, laying in bed, enjoying each other's company; you’re thankful for anything to use as a distraction, it’s better than having to think about the fact that this time tomorrow, you’ll be on your way back to your parents house. 
Then after that, you’ll be back to New York, with no one but your so-called friends who don’t really know you; the ones who are friends with you for the convenience of it. And you’ll be resigned to think about how Quinn’s doing as the ache on your heart, put there by no one other than yourself, weighs you down once again.
The feeling you wake up with is dreadful and your chest hurts at the sound of Quinn’s heart beat against your ear. You can’t help the tears that escape your eyes and roll down the side of your face. It had been so long since you cried over him that at one point you thought you were all out of tears. 
You stay lying against his chest for what feels like hours until he finally wakes up, tears all dried up by that point. The air in the room is different though, and he can feel it too. He reaches up to run his fingers through your hair and you’re almost too scared to look at him. 
You’re unsure of how long the two of you stay like that, but eventually you bring yourself to look at him. You hold eye contact and the look on his face makes you regret it. Don’t. You want to say. Don’t ask me to stay and I won’t ask you to wait. 
Quinn opens his mouth to speak, hesitating for a moment. You can tell when he finally works up the courage to say what he’s been wanting too, but you cut him off before he gets the chance.
“Don’t.” The word comes out harsher than you meant it too, and you can see the look in Quinn’s eyes.
“Don’t what?” He asks as if he doesn’t know what you’re referring to.
You avoid the question. “We have this whole day left, don’t ruin it now.”
Quinn pulls away from you completely, causing you both to sit up in the bed. You make eye contact and you know what he wants. He wants you to say it. “Don’t ruin it by what?”
“By asking me to stay.” Your heart was in your throat. There was no point in dancing around it, you couldn’t, not now, no matter how much you wanted to. Quinn scoffed, jaw clenching tightly as he stood up from the bed, and away from you. 
You shake your head at him, suddenly it felt like you were three years younger, eyes shining with tears as you begged him not to do this. Now you’re standing up too, the bed in the middle leaving you on opposite sides in more ways than one, again.
“You knew what this was.” You try to steady your voice as it trembles. “You knew what this was when you asked me to come here.”
Your voice raises slightly as Quinn looks everywhere but you. “We both knew that this was just for the weekend—”
Finally, Quinn brings himself to speak. “I don’t want just a weekend with you, I want a life!”
His outburst leaves you stunned. I want a life. He waits for you to say something, but is met with silence. I want a life. You’re frozen in place, watching as he rounds the bed, completely unsure of what’s about to happen. Quinn pushes past you, leaving you to look at his back as he yanks open the top drawer of the nightstand.
When he finally turns around, it makes it clear what he’s holding, a black velvet box. Your eyes widen, breath catching in your throat when he opens it. Quinn sets it on the bed, and you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at the diamond ring.
It isn’t until he steps forward taking your face in his hands that you look at him. “You are the only person I have ever wanted to be with, to have a life with. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll put in a trade request if I have too— but I want you to come back to Vancouver with me.”
Tears spring from your eyes, and he uses his thumbs to wipe them away from your cheeks. You want to say yes, you so badly want to say yes. But you’re scared. “Quinn—”
He can see your hesitation. “I’ve been carrying that box around since we were nineteen.”
You’re caught off guard yet again. “What?”
“I bought it the second I signed my contract.” Quinn explains. “You are all I have ever wanted and I’ve known that since we were eleven and I saw you for the first time, chasing your brother around outside with his own hockey stick.”
A laugh escapes your throat, it's an ugly one, mixed with a sob, but it makes Quinn smile anyways. It’s silent for a moment, and Quinn watches you with a bated breath as your mind goes what feels like a million miles an hour. 
His words echo in your head. I’ll put in a trade request if I have too. That’s almost all it takes for you to make up your mind. Placing your hands on either side of his face you pull him in for a kiss, hoping that’ll get your answer across better than words. 
His hands grip your waist and you cart your fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends gently. You’re finally able to get your words out when the two of you pull away. “No—”
Quinn’s face falls and you cringe at the sudden realization of what you said. “No, you don’t need to put in a trade request. I want to go back to Vancouver with you.”
His grin is wide, one of the biggest smiles you’ve seen from him in a long time, and it makes you grin too. Quinn kisses you again before pulling you into a hug. “Fuck, I love you.”
“I love you too.” Your voice is muffled by his shoulder, but he hears it anyway, and for the first time in years, the ache in your chest is gone.
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a/n: the way this has been sitting in my drafts for four months unfinished and then i suddenly got a burst of inspiration at ten o’clock at night
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samoschier · 7 months
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Annual Christmas party- M. Samoskevich
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Mackie Samoskevich x fem! Reader
In which your fiancé fucks you in the bathroom during the family Christmas party
Warnings?; SMUT; unprotected sex(use protection!), p i v, bathroom sex, cursing, pet names, kissing, a bit of dirty talk, lightly proofread so I apologize for any errors!
Day 6 of my ficmas celebration!
Your head snapped towards the door at the sound of the doorknob moving, “one second! I’m just washing my hands.” You called assuming it was one of your soon to be in-laws.
However when the door slid open and your fiancée slid inside you were a tad bit confused.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, using the hand towel hanging on the wall to dry your hands.
The man didn’t reply to your question though, and just as you went to issue another question-his body was surging forward and pulling you into a kiss.
It was rushed and messy, your body stumbling backwards from the force of his lips.
“Mm, mackie-wait, everyone’s downstairs.” You whimpered as his lips began to trial down your throat.
“I know.”
“You know? Mack we can’t, not here.” You spoke, a hand slipping into his hair to pull him out of your neck.
“Baby c’mon everyone’s to drunk to even notice us being gone, we can be quick.” He whined, trying to pull you into another kiss but the ringed hand you placed on his chest stopped him.
“Matthew” you spoke more stern this time.
“Y/n” he mocked.
“We are not having sex in your mother’s bathroom because you can’t keep it in your pants.”
“Baby please, I’ll be quick I promise.” He spoke, giving you the best puppy eyes he could muster up.
You took his plead into consideration, was there a chance of you being caught? Yes. But had the entirety of the samoskevich family had a hefty amount of spiked egg nog? Yes.
“Fine, but we have to be quick.” You spoke.
Mackie didn’t even care to give you a proper reply, he just surged forward and wrapped you in his arms, quickly placing you on top of the sink.
His lips locked with yours in another desperate kiss, his mouth swallowing the whimpers escaping your mouth as his hands began to make their way between your legs.
His large fingers pushed your panties to the side as he ran the tip of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your slickness on his digit.
“Don’t tease Mack, we don’t have time.” You whimpered.
With a nod the boy quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his dress pants down just enough for his swollen cock to spring out, its head red and glistening with his precum.
He pulled you closer to the edge, legs wrapped around his waist as he jerked himself a few times before slipping inside your warm walls.
Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he filled you to the halt, his tip hitting the most sensitive spot inside you perfectly.
“F-fuck Mackie.” You cried lowly.
He grounded his hips into yours, moving at a pace that was quick enough to make you cover your mouth to muffle your noises but slow enough to keep the sounds of slapping skin down.
“So good for me baby.” He groaned, head tucking into the crook of your neck as his hands gripped your thighs.
You hands came up to tangle into his dark curls, pulling on the dark stands just how he liked-yearning you a low cry from him.
Mackie’s lips brushed soft kisses against the base of your throat, his tongue slightly slipping out to run along the hot skin.
“Shit, I’m getting close Mack.” You cried as you felt the knot in your lower stomach getting tighter and tighter as he continued to fuck you deep.
“Me to baby, almost there.” He moaned, slipping one of his hands between your thighs to rub desperate circles over your clit.
You could feel your legs begin to tremble at the added pressure on your clit, your hands shook as they came up to grip onto his broad shoulders.
A deep whimper left mackie as he felt you clenching around him, hugging him so tight.
“I-I’m coming Mack, shit!” You whined pulling him into a sloppy kiss to attempt to quiet the cries of your orgasm.
Your body shook against Mackie’s as heat spread through your body like a wildfire, cried getting louder as he continued to fuck you through your high.
“Fuck baby, I’m almost there” the boy whimpered as he pulled back from your lips.
His hands took place on your thighs as he sped up his thrusts, fucking into you at an unforgiving pace-chasing the high he desperately needed.
You slapped a hand over Mackie’s mouth as his climax hit him, his head thrown back as his nails dug crescent moons into your skin, and his large body shook in pleasure between your legs.
You both took a second to catch your breath before Mackie was pulling out with a wince and sliding your panties back into place before he fixed himself.
“I can’t believe we just did that.” You laughed as you stood on shaky legs.
“It was fun though.” He giggled as he pulled you into a sweet kiss.
Unlocking the door after you both fixed your appearances in the mirror he guided you back downstairs to rejoin his, and your soon to be family in the living room.
“Wait..when did you guys leave?.” Maddy asked, looking at the two of you like you had just teleported.
“We went eat some pie in the kitchen.” Mackie laughed at his sister, shooting you a sneaky wink.
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samoschier · 7 months
Text
can I be close to you?
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summary: after meeting you, he starts seeing you everywhere. while at first he's not so sure, quinn grows to enjoy your company, despite his demanding schedule in a city that demands a lot from him.
warnings: slow burn, neighbour!reader x quinn, neighbours to friends to lovers??, reader has really good friends, lots of pining if you're into that
word count: 7.4k
He always says that he lives half of his life on the ice, and since joining the NHL, it couldn’t be more true. Quinn was busy, really busy. Fitting, he thought, because Vancouver was busy too. A busy city, full of busy people, doing busy things to keep themselves, well- busy.
If he wasn’t enjoying himself so much, he’d miss Michigan deeply. (And on hard days he did.)
Three years in, Vancouver didn’t seem so bad. He knew a few spots around town he liked and could cycle through without too much hassle from fans and the like. He settled into a comfortable apartment close enough to work, and while it was a high-rise with over 300 units, he rarely saw anyone else. Not in the elevator, not in the gym, and certainly no one on his own floor. It both concerned and delighted him- because that was the other thing about Vancouver; it was nosy.
So you can imagine his surprise when the elevator stops at the ground floor when he's coming home one night.
He's coming up from the lower parking levels, and it's a long way up, so he's on his phone when the elevator stops short. The elevator ride is so smooth that he barely notices it stop until the door opens and you step in, turn around, and scan your key-fob. He watches you, face turned down towards his phone, as you reach out to press a button, hesitating when you notice that it is already lit. His floor.
Maybe it's because in the entire first year he was living in the building, he had never seen another soul. 
Maybe it was the way your perfume filled the elevator- fresh and sweet.
Or maybe it was the way you covered your mouth with the back of your hand when you yawned.
He stared at you, trying to be subtle, not letting his eyes settle on anything for too long. His eyes narrowed, the more he thought about you coming to the same floor as him. There were 52 floors in the building, he thought. What are the odds that you would be on the same one as him? 
Did you know who he was? Were you some crazy superfan? Stalker? Would he have to move, sell the apartment? No, he shouldn't have to do that. Restraining order? Dozens of possibilities flipped through his mind as he leaned against the back wall of the elevator, making sure you exited the elevator first. 
And you did. You stepped out and turned left.
With a blank look just shy of a frown, he shuffles out of the elevator and sees you make your way down the hall, his apartment door in sight. He watched you start digging through your purse midway, checking over your shoulder at him cautiously as you did. He tried to walk slowly but if he gave you any more time he'd be standing still, and that would be much creepier, he thought.
When Quinn reached his front door, the corner unit at the end of the hall, you had just managed to pull out your keys. For something so full and tangled with keychains it took you a while to find, he thought to himself, pulling out his own with ease.
"Goodnight." he heard you say over his shoulder. When he turned to reply, your door had already softly shut with a click of the lock.
He felt a little rude not saying anything, but you couldn't have expected a response if you had shut the door, right? 
Thinking he would probably never see you again anyways, Quinn decided not to give you any more thought and put his concerns to rest.
.
.
The next time he saw you was maybe a month later, but still sooner than he would have liked. Ironically, this time you were both leaving your apartments. 
He was moving his work bag through the door and turned around to lock up when he heard another open behind him. 
"Oh!” You seemed just as surprised to see him, and he tensed when he realized it was you, fumbling in closing and locking his door, “You again." 
"'Morning," he greeted you politely with a nod of his head. You may have beat the stalker allegations in his head, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you.
With a turn of his body so as not to bump into you, he walked by you with his black duffel bag. Behind him, he could hear the chains of your key charms clash as you locked your door, and then the patter of your feet against the hallway carpet as you trailed behind him to the elevator.
"Good morning," you replied once you met him in front of the elevator. He nodded again, acknowledging you. He looked up at the little digital screen above the door, watching the number rise with the elevator. Did the elevator always take this long? It would be a long way down, too... His leg began to bounce a little, and he was lost in his thoughts when you introduced yourself. 
"Quinn," he turned his head to look at you, before watching the elevator climb again. It was his first good look at you. 
You were cute, to say the least. He pressed his lips together when you reached up to rub the sleep out of your eyes, trying to keep himself from chuckling. And you smelled nice, he knew that. The chime of the elevator arriving at your floor finally sounded, and he faced forward again, letting you enter first. You pressed the ground floor; he pressed parking level 2. The ride down was silent for the most part. He was thankful for that.
"Well, it was nice meeting you, Quinn," you said when you had reached the ground level, "Have a good day." 
"Yeah, see you around," he said, and wondered why he did, because really, he hoped he didn’t. 
.
.
.
“No fuckin’ way you meant to do that.” J.T. Miller’s voice was loud and clear over the noise in the busy pool hall. If Quinn didn’t know any better, he’d think J.T. was trying to get recognized. He glanced around. No one seemed to pay their rowdy group any mind, all immersed in their own games. His friends and teammates were laughing about Demko’s last pool fluke as he looked around the place. “Demmers, you don’t even score on the ice.”
“I’m the goalie, Mills,” Thatcher cried out in exasperation, laughing all the same.
“You all right, Huggy?” Conor Garland tapped his beer to Quinn’s, getting his attention. While he usually kept it neutral, something must have changed in his face when he thought he saw you, five tables down. “You see something you like…?” Garland trailed off, following his line of sight. Quinn cursed Conor for being so attentive and thanked him for not chirping him out to the group right away.
They watched you lean over the table to line up a shot, and Quinn looked away for a moment, feeling like he shouldn’t be looking at you like that. From where they were, he couldn’t tell if it was a good rip or not. Based on your reaction he couldn’t tell either, since you were smiling before and after the shot.
“I think that’s my neighbor,” Quinn told Conor.
“I think your neighbor’s got ass.” They looked over to see Boeser leaning on his cue stick, not realizing he was part of the conversation. Quinn gave him a weird look but couldn’t keep from laughing at the random commentary. He’s not sure what he was thinking when he looked over at you again, eyes trailing down when you bent over the pool table again. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he did it five minutes later, either.
He must have done it one too many times, because you had looked up from across the table, and the next time he looked over at you, his eyes met yours. Yours had widened when you seemed to place him in your memory, and you smiled at him, warm and bright. Five beers down, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling back.
.
.
.
The last time he saw you, he was the one with alcohol flowing through him. This time, he was coming back from a late-night run when he saw you stumbling out of a car in front of your building. He wasn’t sure where the strength in his legs came from when he jogged the rest of the way to the front door. Sure enough, he met you waiting at the elevator.
“Yeah, I’m home.” You were on the phone. “Mhm, just waiting for the elevator.” You noticed him and with a big smile, whispered, “Hi!”
Quinn brought his hand up in a lazy wave, not wanting to interrupt your phone call. The elevator arrives and you both step in. He selects the floor for the both of you, and you let him.
“Just a guy in my building- my neighbor actually,” you say as if he’s not right there, the only other person in the elevator. He wants to laugh but he doesn’t, finding this inebriated personality amusing. “I don’t know if he’s cute.” You say in a lower voice, turning away from him. He remains facing forward, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing at you and your tight grip on the elevator railing. He can feel your eyes on him.
The elevator chimes and to his surprise, you bolt through the doors once they open. What’s more surprising is how quickly you’re able to get a hold of your keys and get your door unlocked, compared to yourself sober. As he walks past your closing door to his own, he hears you giggling.
“He’s cute.”
.
.
.
In Michigan, he knew all his neighbors- he was in college, it was the college town, and he was probably over at theirs for a party at least once and vice versa. In Toronto, he knew his neighbors on both sides and across the street. Vancouver just wasn’t like that, at least not Downtown Vancouver. 
Some of his teammates bought houses in the suburbs and he knew that neighborly courtesy was not completely lost in the city. Not long ago, Conor was telling him about going over to his neighbors for dinner with his wife after he helped them fix their shed up. “That’s real nice of you,” Quinn had told him.
And that’s how he found himself in your apartment for the first time. 
You were honestly just lucky he happened to have a rest day. He wouldn’t have been home at 2 in the afternoon otherwise, and your knocks at his door would have gone unanswered. He looked through the peephole and saw you, tugging at the sleeve of your hoodie. He couldn’t think of anything he did wrong- he didn’t throw parties, he didn’t blast music, he was barely home out of the 24 hours in a day. It was his day off, and it certainly crossed his mind to just pretend he wasn’t home.
“Hello?” It came out more of a question than he meant it to, but you didn’t seem to take any offence, “Everything ok?”
“Hi.” The last time you saw him you were drunk. You knew that. What you didn’t know was whether you had made a fool of yourself. But that was almost a month ago- he couldn’t hold that against you, right? 
You push through the embarrassment in your head, “Yes, um, I have this package downstairs and it was supposed to be delivered up here, but the guy just left it downstairs and it’s kind of a lot and I was wondering if maybe you could help me bring it up?” You managed to get the gist of it out, “You can say no,” you added quickly, “it’s the weekend, I would totally understand.” 
“Sure,” he said, speaking before his brain could catch up.  
“Sure?” you echoed.
“Yeah, sure.” He grabbed his keys and locked up. 
“Oh- ok, thank you. Thank you so much, Quinn.” It was almost like you didn’t think he would say yes. 
“Don’t mention it,” he shrugs, following you to the elevators.
“My friends were supposed to come over today to help but they bailed,” you explained, though he didn’t ask, “And uh, the building wants it out of the mail room ASAP.” 
When you arrived at the common mail area, he realized why. There were maybe nine large boxes taking up the majority of the open space. His eyes widened and he let out a low whistle, “Yeah, I can see why.” 
You smiled sheepishly, and were about to tell him that he could still say no, when he picked one up. You had to hold your jaw from dropping. The tracking information said each box weighed at least 90kg, but picked them up without difficulty. 
“Oh, it’s not too bad,” he said, “what are in these? Anything fragile?” 
Your eyes traced every curve of muscle along his arms. You had never noticed it before, and you had to swallow the drool pooling in your mouth back after he took off his sweater. He was ripped, and it wasn’t just for show, he was strong too. It was never so apparent until now. With both hands preoccupied, he was trying to shake the curls, which had grown out a lot since you had first met, out of his face. You were definitely blushing now. 
“They make a couch,” you tell him, shaking the thoughts from your head, “I was just thinking we could just push them. Don’t hurt your back.” You start to push one box towards the elevators while he walks carrying his. 
“Do you need help putting it together?” He wanted to kick himself. It’s his rest day, why would he say that? It’s the neighbourly thing to do, a voice in his head says. The door opens to your floor and he makes his way towards your apartment.
“No, I should be good!” You huff from behind him, “just need a hand getting it in!” You’re out of breath and it’s funny to him. 
After the second run he suggests you start building and he can bring the rest himself. You’re hesitant to agree, but it’s a better strategy, so you hand him your keys. 
They have a ridiculous weight to them, with all the keychains attached. He rotates it in his hand, looking at the different ones on the way down. There’s a variety of animals and characters, some old and dirty, or missing ears or arms. He shoves it in his pocket before picking up another box. 
You were right that you didn’t need his help building it. It was a modular couch, with very little assembly required. A neutral color that looked good in your apartment. Your apartment was a lot different than his. A long narrow hall for your entryway, but it opened up to a big space, facing west. You had as good a view as he did, though. 
He was sitting on your new couch, after having unboxed and added the last section when the doorbell rang. He looked at you, and you all but ran to the door.
“I ordered pizza,” you said when you returned, two boxes in hand, “Can you believe the pizza guy could make it up here but whoever delivered this couch couldn’t?” You shared a laugh, and he checked his watch for the time, thinking to decline, but his stomach was telling him it was time to eat. You were at your kitchen island, pouring yourself a glass of something. 
“Thank you so much, Quinn, really,” you said one box in hand and your glass in the other, “You’re welcome to stay, but I’ve already taken so much of your time. This box is for you. You can take it home, you must have stuff to do this evening. You deserve it.” 
In the end, he took the box and went on his way, not wanting to overstay his welcome. Once home, he immediately opened the box and grabbed a slice, and he was on his second one when he noticed the writing on the underside of the lid:
Thanks for your help today :)
I owe you one. 
For when you want to cash it in: 
604 - 443 - 8866
.
.
He didn’t plan on ever taking you up on that IOU, not even when he forgot his parents were flying in, and he hadn’t made arrangements, which was why he was at the nearby grocery store, grabbing flowers for his mom. He didn’t think about asking you until he saw you there, and at that point he was in a rush to get to the airport. 
You were in the baked goods section when Quinn passed by you, on a bee-line to the flower stand inside the supermarket. It seemed like he grabbed the first bouquet he saw and then went right to self checkout. 
And then he was gone.
You wondered who he was buying them for. He looked like he was in a rush. Was he in trouble with his girlfriend? You wondered. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, he’d have had her over at least once, right? Not liking the way you felt thinking about it, you decided to check out and head home. It was none of your business anyways. 
It wasn’t until you got home that you realized you forgot to buy bread.
.
“Oh my gosh, you have a crush on your neighbour,” your friend squealed, and you shushed her even though you felt giddy, too. “It’s not like he can hear us!” she giggled.
“I don’t know,” you pulled the hem of your t-shirt over your tucked knees. You sat across from each other on the couch Quinn had helped you with. “I don’t even really know him.” 
“Isn’t that what crushes are? Liking what you know about them, letting your imagination fill in the rest,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. You see an idea light the bulb behind her eyes before she grins, “What does he look like? Do you have a photo?”
“No, I don’t have a photo of my neighbour,” you laugh, shaking your head at her, in a ‘why would you even ask that’ type of way.
She shrugs, “Seems like you spend a lot of time with him.” 
“I don’t spend time with him,” you amended the record, “I just happen to see him, like, everywhere. Remember Soho? He was there at the pool hall that night.” 
“No way, did you say hi?”
“No, we weren’t like that. We aren't like that.”
“Did he say hi?”
“No, why would he?” 
“Did you want him to?” Her smile turned shit-eating, as if she caught you in your feelings red-handed. 
“Mmm, not at the time, no,” You said slowly after thinking about it. It was a fun night out with your friends, in fact, you had almost forgotten what he looked like at that point. 
“What about now?” she prodded.
“Doesn’t matter now,” you said, hoping to put an end to her digging open the superficial wound in your heart, “I saw him buying flowers this morning.” 
“Okay, and…?” 
“And doesn’t that mean he has a girlfriend?” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Your friend rolls her eyes and deadpans when she says your name. “In what world does that mean he has a girlfriend? He could be going to a funeral, or buying them for himself! Don’t step on your own feelings and assume he’s in a relationship just because you saw him buying flowers in a Whole Foods.” 
“Didn’t seem like he was going to a funeral,” you try to support your statements, but it's measly and doesn’t sound good enough for you, either. 
“Now if you saw him with another girl, it’d be different. But just ‘cause they like wearing rings, doesn’t mean they’re married.” she concluded, and with no rebuttal, she asked again, “So what’s he like?” 
The wonderfully giddy femininity of talking about a new-found love filled the air. 
.
You must have been manifesting him with all your thinking, because you had seen him every day this weekend, which was more than you had seen of him in the last three months since he had helped you out. Since you came to terms with your crush on him, he was on your mind way too much for a guy you had barely met.
You had decided not to remain cooped up with your thoughts all day, and were almost to the elevators when you heard the chime; it had just arrived on your floor. 
Out stepped an older couple, and behind them, Quinn. He looked a little alarmed to see you, but guided his parents in your direction, or at least, towards his apartment. Thinking you would brush past each other, you smiled politely and pressed yourself against one side of the hall. To your surprise, Quinn stopped them to introduce you. 
“She’s my neighbour, like right next door.” 
“H-Hi,” you say as brightly as possible, not expecting to meet anyone. 
"These are my folks," he said, and you found the pride in his voice incredibly attractive. You had to swallow it back.
“Hi dear, I’m Ellen,” his mom shook your hand warmly, “and this is my husband, Jim.” His dad reached out to do the same.
“Our boy hasn’t been causing you any trouble, has he?” He put a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. While it seemed like he was joking, his voice held a certain tone of authority. It felt like if you were to say Quinn stepped a toe out of line he would still be in trouble with his old man somehow.
You laughed it off, “No, not at all. I might be more trouble than him. Quinn’s been a great neighbor, really great.” 
“You pay her to say that?” Quinn’s dad nudged him, which made everyone laugh again. 
“They’ll be in town visiting for a bit, they’re staying at the JW,” Quinn explained. 
“They’re not staying with you?” You asked. The JW wasn’t far, maybe at the end of the next block, but you were pretty sure Quinn had a two bedroom. (You actually had viewed his flat before settling on yours, the corner unit being just outside your budget.)
“That’s what I said!” Quinn’s mom swatted his shoulder playfully, as if to say ‘I told you so.’
“Oh, El, let the boy have his space,” Quinn’s dad took her hand and began to lead her down the hall. 
“Sorry about that,” Quinn said quietly to you, hand scratching the back of his head bashfully. He pressed the elevator button for you before following after his parents, his arms wrapping around both their shoulders as they walked down the hall together. 
Alone in the elevator, you let out a happy sigh. The interaction filled your heart with joy. It was so wholesome. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. It didn’t seem like you would stop thinking Quinn anytime soon. 
.
.
Two weeks later, you’re leaving just as he’s coming home from work. You’re dressed for the club, and he looks beat. 
No, like literally, beat. A small gash above his eyebrow, held together with maybe five or six stitches. His upper lip is banged up too, still bleeding into the tissue he has wrapped around an ice pack. His bag is on the ground and he's fishing in his pockets for his keys. He’s so tired he’s leaning against the wall.
“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say once you get past the shock, and without thinking, you immediately reach out to him. He winces a little when you touch him, and step back. “Sorry. Here, let me help you,” you say, reaching for his keys and slotting it into the keyhole. “What on earth happened to you?”  
Quinn was so fucking tired. They had lost a game they could have won; should have won. He took a high stick with no penalty call, and then ate the wall and had to get stitches. Then at the end of it all he had to sit there and talk to the press about why they lost? And his lip was still fucking bleeding. “I got it,” he muttered, but didn’t even have the energy to fight his keys from you. 
“No, you don’t,” you said, grabbing the strap of his duffel bag, and when you couldn’t lift it you pulled it into his apartment. He went straight for his couch, melting into the cushions. “Have you eaten? I’ll be right back,” you said walking out his front door.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, you had returned with a first aid kit and a steaming bowl of what looked like pasta. You took the ice pack out of his hand and set it down. 
“Quinn, what happened to you?” You asked, leaning over his slumped frame. With a warm, wet cloth you dabbed at his smashed upper lip. He sucked in the pain with a sharp breath. “Did somebody hurt you? God, your mom is going to be so worried.” 
“Don’t tell her,” he said, knowing she probably watched it all happen live. 
While he didn’t have the energy to actually, he was laughing in his head. His mom has seen worse things on the ice. He’s seen worse things happen. Yeah, he’s sore all over, but it was just another day at work. Like most things about you, watching you play nurse amused him. 
Maybe that’s why he let you.
Maybe it was the way your face filled with concern the moment you saw him. 
Maybe it was because it felt nice to be taken care of at the end of a long day. 
You came in close, dabbing a cotton swab with ointment onto the wound, and he held his breath for a different reason. You brought your other hand up to hold his face steady.  
“Are you cashing in that favour?” You raised your eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. You handed him the bowl of pasta and began to clean up.
“Sure,” he chuckled, smiling for the first time since he got home. He winced as it stretched his lip. He sat up properly to eat, “Thanks.” 
“Don’t mention it,” you said, suddenly hyper aware that you were sitting on his living room floor in one of your skimpier dresses. You tried to adjust yourself as modestly as you could. “I’ll, um, let you rest.” 
It was a good thing you left when you did, Quinn thought, because he was starting to think he could get used to this. 
.
.
A couple days pass and your girlfriends have forgiven you for flaking last weekend, pitying you for being in so deep for a man you hardly knew.
“So, what do you like about him?”
“I don’t know. He’s just such a good guy.” They groaned, like the failure buzzer at a spelling bee. 
What was it about him that drew you to him?
He was kind. Despite being more reserved, he was well-mannered and so effortlessly chivalrous. You liked that he had a good relationship with his parents. He had a good sense of humour, and an even better head of hair. It was just the cherry on top that he was so easy on the eyes. One look and anyone would understand why you had a big fat crush on your neighbour Quinn. 
Three firm knocks on your door made you jump out of your thoughts. With no idea who it could be, you opened the door.
“Hi,” you said, suddenly short of breath.
“Hey.” You stared at each other for a moment before he averted his gaze, unable to maintain such strong eye contact for too long. “I uh, thought you’d want these back.” 
He held a clean bowl and fork between you, the one you gave him pasta in that one night. You took them off his hands. “Took you two days to finish, was it that bad?” you joked.
He laughed, “No, no, it was good, promise. Thanks again. I owe you.” He never did tell you what happened that night, and you decided that it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to. “Would a coffee or something make us even?” 
“Right now?” 
“Sure, if you’re free.”  
“Uh yeah sure, let me just put these away. I’ll be right back.” Though it may have been rude, you didn’t invite him inside.
Otherwise, he would have seen you scream silently on the other side of the door. He would have seen you skip giddily down the hall and drop off the kitchenware on the nearest available surface. You didn’t change, even though it crossed your mind to. You pull a hoodie over your head. This wasn’t a date or anything. Still, you quickly brush your hair, spritz some perfume, and put some lip balm on.
Just two neighbours, getting coffee.  
.
From the coffee shop at the corner to the community park a couple blocks down, Quinn learned a number of things. 
He learned about your day to day; you told him about your job, what you liked about it and some things you didn’t. 
He learned a bit about the neighborhood you grew up in, and growing up the youngest of three siblings. You told him how you felt meeting his parents, and how it made you miss yours. He liked the way you talked about things, honest to your experience and opinion- he didn't feel like you were sugarcoating your thoughts, or telling tales through rose-coloured glasses. 
And while he loved hockey and would never run out of things to say about it, he learned that he enjoyed not talking about it, too. He really liked not being asked about his plan for the next game, about his last game, or his brothers, though he did mention them. 
“Two younger brothers? What’s that like?” 
“I love ‘em to bits,” he said truthfully, “but they can be two pains in my ass.” 
“One for each cheek." You made him laugh.
For a couple hours, he was just himself; a regular guy in a busy city. No C on his chest, no expectations on his shoulders, no team on his back. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way since moving to Vancouver. Meeting new people in the city, they always seemed to know more about him than he knew about them. It was nice to really introduce himself for the first time in a long time.
Alone in his apartment, he smiled to himself. He wanted to feel like this all the time, and it took everything in him not to walk out his door and knock on yours.
Instead, he picked up his phone and found the contact under which he saved your number. 
.
.
As the city transitioned from winter to spring, the ice that coated your relationship with Quinn melted too. 
He texted you often, and you saw him  more. He’d invite you on his evening runs (even if you couldn’t keep up) and you’d ask him to morning coffee. All nice, neighbourly things. You showed him your favourite ice cream shop, and told him about the sweetest fruit your coworker brought from a farmers market. He suggested you two go, and a man of his word, the next sunny day you did. 
He’d text you photos of things he thought you’d like: a dog in boots on a rainy day; a gacha machine of keychains; the menu of a restaurant he thought you’d like, then make plans to go. He always tried to pay for things, which wasn’t fair to him. You made a decent wage and could afford to pay, so you were always sneaking around him to give the staff your card.  
He never talked about his work, and you never really asked. He was pretty open about everything else. You assumed he didn’t want to talk about it. Some days he seemed stressed and you figured it had to do with his job, and you didn’t think bringing it up would make him feel better. Some workplaces were like that, you knew. The further you were away from it the better you felt. Besides, if he wanted to, he would. 
You felt that way about other things too. If he wanted to change the status of your relationship, he would. 
“You could too, y’know,” your friend was back over at yours having another heart to heart, this time at your kitchen counter with canned cocktails poured out into glasses.
“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. You glanced at your phone, itching to check if he had texted you- your phone was on do not disturb, since you had company, “I like where we’re at though.” 
“If you like it, then why are you thinking about it becoming more?” 
“I..,” you trailed off, partially in thought and hesitating to say the words on your mind, “I don’t like thinking about him doing the same stuff with someone else.” You cringed, hearing how pathetic it sounds out loud. 
“So, you should tell him that,” she said seriously, and you glared at her because she was right. She smiled back because she knew you wouldn’t do it. 
Spending time with Quinn had become the highlight of your days, and you realized all too late not to put so much weight on something that was not guaranteed.  
.
.
“I’m gonna be going home over the summer,” Quinn told you, something he had been putting off, but knew he would have to tell you eventually, “y’know, spend time with the ‘rents.” 
“Oh, nice. Say hi to them for me,” was all you said, and if he wasn’t so observant of you he might have missed the way your expression dropped before you smiled, “Will…” your voice faltered, giving you away again,” Will your brothers be there too?” 
“Yeah,” he smiled at their mention, “Yeah, they will." He thought about inviting you, he did, but if he could put off Jack and Luke taking the piss out of him in front of you, he would. 
"What's summer like in Michigan?" you asked genuinely, and he told you.
He told you about the house on the lake, the pool tournaments, and nights spent drinking around a fire pit. You listened with ears and eyes wide open, and he could see you imagining the picture he painted.
In that moment, he really wanted to take you with him. 
.
Quinn left sometime mid-June, and he texted you every now and then. He did say he barely had to charge his phone during these summer getaways- he tried to stay off it as much as possible. He’d sent you pictures he took of the things he had told you about. He said he would be back sometime in early September. He’d be busy with work when he got back but assured you that you hadn’t seen the last of him. 
But, come December, it started to feel like you did.
You would text him, but his replies were short and far in between. He had declined your last invitation to get coffee, and you were too embarrassed to ever ask again, because the only thing worse than getting rejected is getting rejected twice.
The city grew cold, and so did whatever it was you had with Quinn. 
“Helloo?” You were on the phone with your friend, and she had been calling your name when you went unresponsive. 
“Sorry,” you apologized sheepishly. Her sigh came through heavily over the phone, and you knew she was tired of you being like this. You were getting tired of it, too.
“Why don’t you come out with us tonight?” she suggested, but you knew your friend- she wasn’t asking.
“I don’t know…” 
“You haven’t been out with us in a while,” she reasoned, “and we’re not going to a club, so you don’t even have to dress up. You can show up in your pj’s if you wanted to.” +1 point, for being a casual setting.
“Where are you guys going?”
“Roger’s Arena for the hockey game tonight, it’s right by you,” +1 point for being walking distance. “Dana’s dad has season passes and they’re out of town this weekend.” +1 point for being free. “And look, if you don’t like vibe of the seats, Lucas and his friends have a suite. If I get drunk enough we can go,” Lucas was a guy your friend had been sleeping with. “You might like his friends, and there’s free food.” +100 points for free food. “The food is pretty good.” 
There was just one thing, “I don’t know anything about hockey, though.”
“Were you even listening? There’s boys and free food- you don’t have to give a damn about the game. I know I don’t. And besides, hockey players are hot.”
.
Dana’s dad had really good seats. Middle of the arena, second row from back of the first set of seats to the glass, across the rink from both team benches. You could see the whole rink really well. Dana had grown up on hockey, and was excited to be at a game with her girlfriends for once. When you told her you didn’t know the first thing about hockey, she happily explained the game to you. Three 20 minute periods, 15 minute intermissions between each one. The lines are important. You couldn’t remember why. 
The arena was packed tonight- which made sense, since it was a home game for the Canucks. Dana was relieved that the team’s name was at least familiar to you. She was here for hockey, your other friend was here for Lucas, and you were here to forget about a certain brown-haired boy.
Both teams had hit the ice to warm up on their respective sides. Because Dana asked, you all had arrived at the game extra early, so you were on your phone for the most part, nursing your drink while the players warmed up and the Canucks interacted with fans young and old. 
Blurs of white and blue skated around the arena. You looked up at the jumbotron and choked mid-sip. 
“Shit, are you okay?” Your friend reached out and dabbed at the liquid you had spat out on yourself. 
There, displayed across the big screen was your next-door neighbor. 
Quinn, who hardly texted you in the last six months. Quinn, who had hardly made an effort to see you since coming back from Michigan. Quinn, who had once been the highlight of your days. There was no doubt about it. 
Your stomach flipped, and your heart lurched out of your chest when he had skated in front of your section to interact with the people that gathered in front of the glass.
“Oh my god, it’s Quinn Hughes, we have to go,” Dana pulled you up out of your seat. You looked back helplessly at your friend who was buried in her phone, without a doubt texting Lucas. Dana dragged you ever closer, with additional trivia, “He was recently named captain.”
A whirlwind of emotions ran through you each step you took towards him. Anger, because how could he have kept such a big part of his life from you? Frustrated because you felt guilty for being mad that he was probably too busy and tired to spend time with you.
Most of all, you felt a type of relief seeing him in person again. Though you tried not to (you wanted to be cold to him), a soft smile spread across your face.
When Quinn saw you coming down the aisle, he greeted you with a smirk and a wave.
.
The way he moved across the ice was mesmerizing. Quinn was good, really good. At least, as far as you could tell. Dana raved about him; the arena announcers adored him. The Canucks dominated the ice tonight.
At the end of such a succesful night, he did something that players commonly did, but he had yet to do. While other players threw over their game sticks, he took off his jersey, and grabbing a sharpie from an arena assistant, he signed it and skated over to your section. The people seated up front immediately flocked to him. He spoke to the crowd before tossing the jersey up over the glass, and watched as they played a quick game of telephone to pass it up to you.
You glared at him, what the hell are you doing?
He grinned, and to your heart’s demise, he winked at you.
The arena cameras were not oblivious to the events that transpired in your section, and before you knew it, the jersey was in your lap, and you were pictured on the jumbotron. The arena was deafening as they cheered on your new favorite player. You brought the jersey up to cover your burning face, which gave the camera a good look at what he wrote across the back of the jersey:
Hope you liked your first hockey game.
xx Quinn
.
Quinn snuck out the back of the arena, de-skating in record time and forgoing a shower in an attempt to catch you on your way home. He’d hear from the coaches and administration about it tomorrow, but there were at least a dozen other guys who could handle the post-game interviews for once. When he saw you standing at the entrance of the alleyway, where he had texted you to meet him, he picked up the pace to meet you. Usually, he’d be feeling drained after a good game like today, but the thought of seeing you filled him with adrenaline.
He had missed you, of course he did, after being away from you for so long. Of course he loved his family, and the lake house, and Michigan. But this summer had been nothing like past lake retreats. Everytime he found himself enjoying something- boating on the lake, roasting marshmallows, pool tournaments- he thought about how much you'd enjoy it, too. How much better things could be, would be if you were there. 
Then, coming home, and though he knew it was coming, he didn't realize how much more he was taking on. No wonder Petey never wanted to wear the C. He doesn't regret it, though. He regrets not taking you with him to Michigan. He regrets having to trade morning coffee with you for morning skate. He regrets not knocking on your door every time he came home without seeing you. His heart ached knowing how close you were the entire time, separated by only a few walls, yet it seemed like there were always so many things in the way. His ego, his fear of rejection, his packed schedule. Right now he was closing the distance, and this time he wouldn't let you slip away.
“Couldn’t wait to wear it, huh?” He gave the jersey a tug and when you turned around, he leaned down and kissed you, pulling you closer by the fabric.
Maybe it was the adrenaline running through him.
Maybe it was the way you looked in his jersey under the city lights.
When your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him even closer, kissed him back even deeper, he knew he should have done so a long time ago.
“I missed you,” you sighed as your lips parted, and it pulled at his heartstrings.
“I’m sorry,” he hugged you, and with two hands firm against his chest, you made space to look at him.
“Sorry you’ve been ghosting me, or sorry you never told me about all of this?” you motioned to the jersey and the arena. You weren't letting him off easy just because he was a good kisser.
“Both? The right answer is both, right?” He gave you a boyish smile and leaned down to kiss you again, to which you couldn’t resist kissing him back, and he smiled because he knew it. “Let me walk you home. Or are you walking me home?” he joked, pulling you towards the street that would lead you both towards the building you called home. You laughed and let him, happy to be in each other’s company.
.
.
.
.
The Captain of the Canucks Scores On and Off the Ice.
Quinn Hughes has been spotted around downtown Vancouver with what eye witnesses say is the same girl from the viral video after their game in early December against the Anaheim Ducks. After that display, there is no questioning his game. Some fans have taken to calling her ‘Jersey Girl,’ since Hughes allegedly asked her out by giving her his jersey.
Jersey Girl has also 'soft launched' on Hughes' social media. Sweet and suggestive pictures of Jersey Girl waking up in the morning were deleted from his official Instagram story not long after it was posted, but long enough for fast fans to clip and repost.
Hughes has always been a mystery man, so these teasers of his private life just drive the fans insane. There's a reason he's quickly become a fan favourite. 
A source has told E!ntertainment Online that Jersey Girl appears to frequently go home with Hughes which begs the question: Are they living together? Just how long has he been keeping this a secret?
Just goes to show kids, you may have a chance at a relationship with your heroes. 
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samoschier · 7 months
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telling my kids this was one direction
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samoschier · 7 months
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back to you
mackie samoskevich x fem estapa! reader
warnings?: cursing, allusions to smut? kind of?, mostly just fluff tho ofc
a/n: this is long af i’m so sorry (i’m not)
masterlist
2008
“mom! mark and mackie are trapping me again!” i yell from the bathroom.
“stop being a wuss y/n.” i hear mark reply.
“please just let me come out.” i beg them. i was always being harassed by mark and his best friend and i never caught a break.
“mark, let’s just let her out okay? she’s been in there long enough.” i hear mackie say.
“ugh fine.” he says opening the door. i stand up off the ground and walk out, wiping the tears that had sprung loose. i didn’t like the way they treated me. i was always being terrorized and i was scared.
“we made her cry dude.”
“that’s sick.”
“okay…..” i hear mackie close out the conversation as i made my way down the stairs to my mother. i sat on the couch with my tear stained face, wrapped in a blanket, watching my favorite movie.
“hey.” i hear a whisper behind the couch.
“mackie?” i ask.
“i’m sorry for locking you in the bathroom y/n. i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he says leaning on the back of the couch.
“it’s okay.” i reply.
“mark likes to do that stuff but i don’t really like doing it to you. i don’t like seeing you cry.” he says and i smile. he runs around the couch to hug me before flying back upstairs before mark notices he’s gone.
-
2014
we all packed into the car to head to mark’s game, which is have been dreading a little less lately. my father putting on classic rock as we make the drive to the rink which became short due to how used to it i was. we find our seats in the rink watching the boys warm up, watching mackie and a few others fly by me every now and then.
“he shoots he scores! mackie samoskevich with the third goal of the game!” the commentator announced as we sat at my brothers hockey game. the crowd overcome with joy for their kids as they got ahead of the opposing team.
“yay mackie!” i yell loudly, my mom chuckling lightly.
“why are you laughing?”
“you two are gonna love each other for the rest of your lives babydoll.” she says adjusting my hat.
“you’re crazy, my only love is harry from one direction.”
“okay y/n.” she laughs, directing her attention back to the game. the game ended wonderfully, mark’s team winning of course.
“alright we’re going to dinner everyone in.” my mom says to mark and i, waving mackie over as well.
“here i’ll sit in the middle.” mackie says smiling at me. we sang and laughed all the way to dinner, mackie and i seemingly closer than before.
“you guys are gross.” mark says coming to the realization at our proximity.
“we are not.”
“are too.” he says turning away and looking out the window.
“mark will you quit, they are literally just sitting next to each other.” my mom says sternly.
“yeah whatever.”
“they’re just mad they aren’t as cool as us.” mackie whispers in my ear, a smile spreading on my face.
‘love each other for the rest of your lives.’ what does she mean?
-
2018
“you kids look great, have so much fun tonight. mark make sure you all get back in one piece.” mom says sending us all out the door. it was my sophomore homecoming.
“you excited?” i ask my boyfriend of 3 months.
“yeah totally.” he says blandly staring at his phone. mark and mackie sat in the front seat chatting amongst themselves. i turn away from him and lean my head on the window, watching the sun set. things had been this way lately. my boyfriend made me feel like i was trying too hard, like he was uninterested.
“alright we’re here. y/n don’t do anything stupid with your boyfriend.” mark says putting the keys in his pockets and walking off. mackie standing behind for just a moment.
“find me if you need anything.” he says earning a nod from me as he walks off to join his best friend.
“let’s go.” my boyfriend huffs, grabbing onto my hand. we find our way into the dance. i look around to see everyone having fun with their dates and friends, meanwhile we sat on a bench barely speaking.
“i’m going to the bathroom.” he speaks to me, standing up and walking away. leaving me alone on this god forsaken bench for losers. many minutes go by and he hasn’t returned.
“what the fuck?” i say looking down at my phone. i stand up adjusting my dress before seeing him dancing in a group of friends, mostly containing girls, his hand tucked firmly on one of their hips. i exhaled loudly, knowing deep down this was happening all along, allowing a tear to escape.
“y/n?” i hear a familiar voice speak.
“oh uh, hey mack.” i say looking at him and then returning my gaze to the floor.
“hey, are you okay? what’s wrong?” he asks noticing my tone and sitting down next to me.
“im breaking up with him.” i say looking back up, mackie following my gaze to him.
“give me your phone.”
“why?”
“give it to me, unlocked.” he demands so i follow. he scrolls to find his name and number in all my socials, blocking him. cutting him out of my life for me.
“thank you.” i say wiping my tears.
“of course y/n.” he says wrapping an arm around my shoulder comfortingly.
“i know you liked him a lot but you deserve better than that.” he speaks after a few moments and i feel his gaze piercing the side of my head.
“i really thought i loved him.” i sigh.
“it hurts i know.” he says, thumb caressing my bicep.
“can we go?” i ask looking into his warm brown eyes.
“yeah of course, come with me.” he says grabbing onto my hand as we hunted mark down.
“hey bud, we gotta go.” mackie says patting my brother on the shoulder.
“why?”
“y/n got, well to put it bluntly, cheated on.” he says simply and marks demeanor changes.
“yeah let’s go, ill catch you guys later” mark says to his friends, grabbing the keys from his pocket and guides us out of the dance. the drive home was quiet, the only thing silencing my cries was the music mark chose to play loudly so i could be alone. once we arrived home i made my way up into my bedroom and changed, not once stopping the tears that left my body. i hear a knock on my door once i’m settled.
“come in.” i say aloud.
“hey y/n,” it’s mackie in his pj pants and umich shirt, ”i’m so sorry about tonight, i’m staying over so let me know if you need anything okay?” he says not stepping in my room.
“thank you mack.” i say smiling lightly, my heart beginning to flutter.
“of course y/n/n.” he smiles shutting my door. the butterflies in my stomach seem to settle over the next hour but never truly going away knowing i could call him in here in two seconds. i zone back into my movie, unfortunately i picked a sad movie on an already sad night, and i started to cry again. i pull out my phone texting him, requesting his presence. moments later i hear a light knock on my door.
“come in.” i say sniffling.
“are you okay?” he asks standing in the door. i shake my head looking down at my hands sitting in my lap.
“hey y/n it’s gonna be okay, we’re here for you.” he says.
“can you come in here?” i ask and he does so shutting the door behind him.
“mark is asleep, i wanted to stay up in case you needed something.” he says walking over and sitting on the floor next to me.
“mack you can sit on the bed, it’s big enough for the both of us.” i giggle lightly.
“i wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”he says standing up and walking around to sit on the bed with me. i lean back up against my headboard, still allowing slow falling tears. i sniffle loudly, not wanting my nose to run, causing him to look at me and frown.
“y/n.” he says leaning closer and wiping my tears away.
“what?” i ask frowning at him.
“you don’t need to cry, he was an asshole.” he laughs not breaking eye contact.
“yeah but-“
“no buts, he’s not worth your tears.”
“okay,” i say leaning my head on his shoulder as i try to fall sleep.
“you deserve so much better, i hope you see that one day.” i hear him whisper and kiss me on the head as i begin to slip into a peaceful sleep.
‘love each other for the rest of your lives’?
-
summer 2020
quarantine hasn’t been so bad with mark having all his friends over to keep us company.
“hey hey y/n.” mark asks as im about to walk inside.
“can you grab me a drink?” he says.
“yeah.” i say grabbing one from the cooler. i feel eyes staring at me, intensely.
“thanks.” he says taking the drink from me and i return to my chair next to mackie. i lay on my stomach, resting my chin on my forearms shutting my eyes.
“shut up.” i here mackie whisper in a stern tone, the other boys laughing.
“huh?” i say sitting up, clearly having fallen asleep.
“well how was your nap?” mackie asks as i roll onto my back.
“it was great.” i smile at him ignoring the snickering boys behind him. my cheeks burned red as id developed strong feelings since that night i feel asleep on his shoulder and was flustered by his care for my nap.
“i’m glad.” he says returning the smile. after a few hours of laying out in the sun, i make my way inside and sit at the kitchen island after making a sandwich.
“shut the fuck up, please like actually.” i hear mackie say from outside with the boys laughing. shortly after i hear the door open and shut and im greeted by none other than mack himself.
“hey mack, what’s up?”
“they’re driving me insane because gosh dare i look in your direction.” he smirks shaking his head.
“that’s stupid i’m sorry.” i laugh.
“like sorry im enjoying the view.”
“oh?”
“well since i said that, you look great y/n.”
“well thank you.” i blush hiding my cheeks with my hands as my elbows rested on the counter.
“yeah of course, i’m just telling the truth, you look amazing.” he says taking the other half of my sandwich and heading back to the door.
“hey hey no come back here with that.” i say and he pauses, taking steps backwards.
“so you weren’t gonna ask me first?”
“nope.” he smiles.
“we’re splitting it.” i say firmly.
“you have a whole other half.”
“mackie i made a full sandwich because im hungry for a whole sandwich.” i laugh.
“fine.” he says hopping up on the counter next to where i’m sitting, he takes a bite and hands it to me.
“thank you.” i smiled at him flirtatiously taking a bite directly off the part he just ate off of, his face slightly turning rose.
“always gotta share with my favorite estapa.” he smirks.
“favorite?” i raise my eyebrows at him.
“don’t tell mark.” he winks, taking the sandwich back and having another bite, the tension in the room rising.
“i won’t.” i blush as he holds out his pinky for mine to latch onto.
“you gonna come back out with us?” he asks me, handing the last bite back to me.
“honestly no i’m pretty exhausted from the sun.”
“okay i won’t either, think ‘m gonna shower and change. all the guys are probably gonna go out on the boat.”
“you don’t wanna go with them?”
“nah not really, the sun really does suck the life out of you.” he says in an odd tone.
“well i’m gonna go get cleaned up, i will see you in a bit.” i say standing up and pushing my chair in.
“alright me too.” he says hopping down from the counter.
“if you need anything i’ll be in my room.” i say to him as i make my way up the stairs.
“perfect.” he smiles and exits the room. i’d consider that an invitation accepted. i shower and change, melting into the comfort of my bed, hearing the familiar knock.
“come in.” i say, as per usual.
“whatcha doin?” he asks coming in and shutting the door behind him.
“oh i just finished drying my hair about to watch something.” i laugh switching on my tv.
“so what are we watching?” he asks laying down leaning up on his elbow still shirtless but in running shorts, making it hard for me to focus.
“whatever you wanna watch.” i smile and look at him nervously.
“just put on the office or something.” he says.
“but you’ve watched it a million times.”
“yeah well i figured you’d wanna talk so id be able to pay full attention to you.”
“oh okay.” i blush not knowing how to act. after a while of a little small talk, i grew cold at the temperature in the room, goosebumps littering my skin.
“c’mere.” i hear mackie whisper as he pulls me to his chest, heat radiating off of him.
“thank you.”
“yeah of course, i could tell you were cold.” he giggles, running his warm hand up and down my arm, rubbing away the goosebumps.
“you’re so warm how?” i laugh.
“not really sure honestly.” he replies smiling, i roll over to face him.
“like a teddy bear.” i smile.
“your teddy bear only though, got it?” he laughs.
“got it.” i giggle as he places his chin on top of my head and sighs.
“why are you sighing?” i ask, wrapping my arm around his torso.
“oh nothing, don’t worry.” he says as his grin on me becomes firmer.
“oh……. okay.” i say shutting my eyes inhaling his sweet masculine scent, wishing this moment could last forever.
“i wonder where the guys are at.” i say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“not sure.” he says simply.
“are you okay?” i ask pulling my head from under his chin to look at him.
“perfectly.” he smiles, pressing a light kiss to my forehead, burning my cheeks red.
“just had to make sure you were good, it’s not like you to not be with them.”
“well, guess i just needed time away from the chaos, time to myself. needed some peace.”
“well you’re not by yourself.”
“i know,” he laughs, “i needed some peace and that’s what i feel when i’m alone with you.”
“oh.” i smile lightly placing my head back under his chin.
‘love each other for the rest of our lives…….’?
-
2021
my feelings for mackie only grew daily after that pool day with all the boys. i practically melt into the floor every time he even speaks to me, which is often. my family and i sat on the couch, watching the draft. several of mark’s teammates were being drafted and we all wanted to support them, mackie being one. it sparked fear in me, the idea of him being whisped away from me.
“the florida panthers are proud to select, from the chicago steel of the ushl, mackie samoskevich.” the man announced as we all jumped for joy, or at least most of us. i was devastated. that’s like an 18 hour drive.
“he’s coming over later tonight so we gotta make him dinner or something. he said he wants to see you guys.” mark says, filling me with anxiety. i get to see him today. as we all quickly scrambled to throw together a meal for him, my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. when is the last time im gonna see him? after an hour or so, the doorbell rings and i sprint to go answer it. i open the door to mackie, dressed still in his hat and jersey.
“hey.” he says smiling at me.
“oh my god i’m so proud of you.” i say practically knocking him over in a hug. he lifts me up off the ground hugging me tightly before setting me down and entering the household, guiding me back in by the small of my back, covering my body in goosebumps at the light touch.
“hey mister draftee.” my mom shouts walking over to hug him, mark following suit.
“we made you dinner.” mark says turning him to the kitchen.
“you guys didn’t have to, thank you so much.” he says smiling gratefully. we sat next to each other at the table as he told us everything about his day. it was exciting and packed full of interviews. i just wish he could stay. once we were done with dinner, i put my plate in the dishwasher and found my way up into my room, barely being able to stand being around him. shortly after, hearing light knocks on my door.
“come in.” i say as the door reveals a lone mackie, shutting the door behind him.
“why’d you come hide out?” he says sitting on the edge of my bed.
“because i couldn’t be down there anymore.” i say keeping my voice from waivering too much.
“why not?” he asks with a concerning tone.
“i’m so happy for you, please understand that but i don’t want you to go mackie, i don’t want you to leave.” i say allowing a single tear to fall.
“oh y/n/n, it’s okay. it won’t be for at least another year or two.” he says reassuringly.
“i know but it’s still gonna happen.” i say using my sleeves to wipe my tears.
“hey no don’t cry, it’s okay. c’mere.” he says as we meet in the middle, hugging into each other tightly, only making me cry more. he held me until i calmed down, rubbing my back soothingly. once we break apart, he removes his hat, placing it on my head.
“keep it, it looks amazing on you.” he smiles as he adjusts it to fit me.
“thank you.” i say quietly, our faces inches apart.
“of course.” he smiles, closing the gap between us, connecting our lips sweetly. eventually, we separate, his hand cupping my cheek.
“i’m not going anywhere, you’ll always have me.” he says as i place my hand back on top of his.
“promise?” i say, my eyes glimmering with hope.
“promise.” he says kissing me again. somehow instinctively, i lay back allowing him to deepen the kiss. i remove the hat from my head, tossing it to the floor as my hands find their way around his shoulders, keeping him close to me. allowing myself to let loose and give into his touch, removing our clothes one piece at a time, never wanting to separate our lips that seemed to be made for each other.
“don’t stop please.” i say as we break apart for a moment, locking eyes.
“are you sure?”
“yes i’m sure.”
“whatever you want.” he smiles reconnecting our lips, fireworks setting off in my stomach. i was nervous beyond belief but i knew i could trust him. his lips trailing down my jaw to my neck, peppering my exposed skin with kisses, his hands holding me gently as though i was made of glass, allowing myself to relax into his touch and trust his guidance into something i had never experienced.
-
my first time having sex was with the boy i’ve loved since i was a little girl and i couldn’t imagine it any other way.
“how are you feeling, do you need anything?” he asks as i trace shapes on his bare chest.
“i’m okay thank you though.” i reply and he kisses me on the head.
“of course.”
“i need to-“
“woah and just where do you think you’re going?” he asks grabbing onto my hand.
“i was gonna go check the pantry.”
“baby no, come back here, i’ll order us some doordash later okay?”
“okay.” i say, crawling back into his grasp.
“can you stay over tonight? well i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to but i kinda would like you to.” i ask running my fingers through his dark hair.
“yeah of course i can, let me text my mom. and yes i do want to.” he says grabbing his phone off the night stand, ignoring the texts from mark and all his friends and family.
“you should answer them.” i say.
“i’ll get around to it later, all i care about right now is being here with you.” he says texting his mother, then setting his phone down on dnd.
“oh, okay.” i say blushing, looking away from his face.
“are you going to regret this tomorrow?” i ask out of the blue and he looks down at me like i just said the most outlandish thing ever.
“baby no, of course not. it was so special how could i ever regret having sex with you. it was so intimate and beautiful, especially since it was your first time, i’m glad it was me so i could make sure you had a good experience.” he explains, my heart fluttering at his words.
“okay, thank you for reassuring me.”
“always.” he says kissing me lightly on the lips.
“and it was more than good mackie, you’re absolutely fucking amazing and also very beautiful. i’ve never felt so connected to someone, no pun intended.” i say giggling at the end.
“you may not have been my first but god damn you were the best, so so beautiful baby.” he says smiling and littering my neck with light kisses as my fingers find my way back into his soft curls.
“i never want you to leave mackie.”
“honestly, i’m starting to question it myself too.” he smiles and we laugh as his thumb brushes my side lightly, his grip on me sending butterflies through my whole body.
‘love each other for the rest of our lives.’
-
may 2023
it was the morning of mackie leaving for development camp in florida and i’m devastated. we never made anything official but we were always together for the last two years. attached at the hip, so hopelessly in love with him.
“i’m coming over in a few, i already have all my stuff packed.” he says over the phone while i get dressed.
“okay, how long does it take to get to the airport?” i ask him.
“like an hour probably.” he replies.
“okay ill see you in a few mack.”
“alright bye.” he says hanging up. i wish i could just tell him how i feel but i can’t. a few minutes later hearing my front door open. i spray on my perfume and bolt down the stairs.
“mackie!” i say hugging him.
“hey y/n.” he says returning the hug.
“are you ready to go?”
“oh uh, my flight is actually tomorrow. i wanted to spend the day here before i left.” he says.
“i’m the only one here though? mark is at his girlfriends.” i say.
“maybe that’s because i wanted to come spend the day with you.” he smiles pushing his suitcase handle down.
“really?”
“yes.” he laughs.
“oh thank you.” i say hugging him again.
“wanted to come spend my last day in michigan with my favorite girl.” he says rubbing his thumb over my cheekbone. i hold onto his hand as he guides me up the stairs back into my room. he lays down on my bed opening his arms for me to lay with him, which i quickly do.
“i wish you didn’t have to leave.” i say quietly.
“i know, but i need to.”
“promise you won’t forget about me?”
“no, i could never forget about you. i’ll fly you down to come see me whenever you want okay?” he says brushing hair out of my face.
“are you sure? i don’t want to hold you back.” i reply.
“you would not be holding me back, i am not looking for anyone okay. no one can replace you.” he mumbles into my hair kissing me.
“mackie.”
“y/n.”
“i’m gonna miss you so much.” i say skipping over what i was going to say.
“i’m gonna miss you more sweet girl.” he says smiling kissing me. after a good night together, we wake up bright and early to take him to the airport.
“mackie.” i say softly shaking him awake.
“what?” he groans.
“it’s time to go to the airport.” i say whispering kissing him on the shoulder.
“let me put a shirt on.” he says sitting up and stretching, his raspy morning voice driving me insane.
“all your stuff is downstairs ready to go.” i say sliding on a pair of shorts.
“let’s go.” he says exiting my room. we get into the car and i put in the directions.
“so are you excited?” i ask him.
“i am excited but im sad to leave here.” he sighs.
“why?”
“because i’m leaving my whole life behind, my friends, and you.” he says sliding his hand into my thigh and resting it there
“well this is gonna be good for you okay? we’ll all still be here.”
“i know but i can’t just pull up to your house to see you now.” he laughs.
“true true.” i reply, the rest of the car ride goes smoothly and we arrive at the airport. we park and i go in with him, not quite ready to leave his side.
“well this is where i have to leave you.” he laughs looking up at security check in.
“bye mack.”
“bye baby.” he says hugging me tightly, kissing me on the head and then the lips after pulling away.
“i’ll see you soon okay?” he says holding my cheeks in his hands.
“okay.” i smile weakly. he kisses me lightly on the forehead one last time before turning away and walking into security. i stand there and watch his license get checked and boarding pass scanned before he disappears into security.
“i love you mackie.” i whisper to myself before exiting the airport and walking back to his car that he is so graciously letting me borrow. i shut the door and sat in the car in silence, admiring the way it still smelled like his cologne and the way he left a bracelet wrapped around the gear shift. i remove it and place it on my wrist, slightly dangling at the size difference but still i admired it. i turned the car on and made my way back home, pulling into my driveway.
“glad you made it home safe, how’s his car?” my mom asks.
“oh it’s great.” i smile.
“don’t worry babe, you’ll see him soon.” she smiles hugging me.
“hopefully.” i smile making my way upstairs.
“mark?” i ask knocking on his door lightly, mackie having been dropped off two hours ago.
“come in.” he replies.
“hey.” i say, tears filling my eyes.
“what’s up?” he asks setting his controller down.
“can i uh, can i talk to you?”
“yeah of course. what’s up?” he says a tear exiting my eye.
“please don’t be mad when i tell you this.”
“y/n don’t cry, whatever it is i can’t possibly mad at you for.” he admits, his voice calming me down. in recent years he’d become a much kinder older brother.
“i love mackie. like love love him and i don’t want you to be mad at me, which im sure you will but please you have to understand.” i say to him which he starts laughing.
“why are you laughing?”
“you think i didn’t already know that you love him?” he asks.
“well….. no.”
“oh y/n come here.” he says opening his arms and hugging me.
“i’ve known you loved him for years, i’ve been watching it unfold.” he says.
“so you aren’t mad?” i say pulling away.
“no of course i’m not. you’re my sister and he’s my best friend. i want you guys to be happy, and if you’re happy together then i have no complaints.” he laughs.
“i did not expect this.” i laugh wiping my tears.
“the real question is, have you told him yet?” he asks genuinely.
“i haven’t, he’s gone now.”
“well why don’t you go see him at the start of the season? i don’t want you to keep it from him y/n/n.”
“i’ll talk to mom.”
“she’ll say yes.”
“how do you know?”
“you really think her and i haven’t talked about you two?”
“oh.” i reply slightly embarrassed, “well thank you for the talk, i love you.”
“i love you too.” he replies, we never speak to each other this way but it felt right after the talk we just had. our relationship steadily improving by the day.
-
october 2023
the first game of the preseason is in one day and my mom is flying me down to see him play.
“have a safe flight hun, text me when you land.” my mom says as i hang up and board my flight. i tell mackie i have a lab exam so he doesn’t get suspicious as to why i don’t answer for 3 hours. once i land, i uber to my hotel, anxiously waiting for it to be the next day, going to bed extra early even.
“meet your 23 florida panthers at our pregame meet and greet and arrival.” i read the tweet aloud to myself. i put on his hat from the draft and the crewneck i ordered a few weeks ago and head out of my hotel room to the location of the event, keeping my head low. as the event begins the players all enter the fenced area to greet anxious fans, when i see mackie walk out i practically fall to the floor. slowly, i approach him as he’s talking to a teammate.
“hey what do you- oh my god.” he says as i look up and he gets a good look at me.
“hi mack.” i smile as he picks me up in a hug like he hasn’t seen me in years.
“hi y/n.” he smiles, interlocking our fingers and finding a less populated area.
“i’m so happy you’re here.”
“me too, i booked my trip literally two days ago.” i laugh.
“you’re too good to me.” he says.
“i have something i need to tell you and i feel like now is the best time since you have a game in a few hours.” i say holding my breath.
“yeah what is it? did you pass your exam?”
“i didn’t take one dumbass.” i laugh and his gaze never faulters.
“i love you mack. like so much, and i’ve been keeping this from you for so long because i didn’t know how you would react.” i finally confess. barely catching him off guard.
“oh you’re fucking incredible y/n i love you more baby, so much more.” he simply replies kissing me sweetly, allowing the moment to dwindle as long as possible.
“let’s go say hey to the kids yeah?” he asks grabbing onto my hand again. my face showing how shocked i am at his reaction or lack there of.
“yeah ok, are all the girlfriends and wives here too, i need to have someone to sit with.” i ask snapping back into reality.
“yeah they’re here, and now i have mine.”
“yours?”
“baby, you’ve been all mine since my draft day, at least to me you have been. i didn’t look at another woman the way i look at you, i didn’t even entertain anyone, i was just too scared to ask you out because of mark.” he laughs.
“mack he knows i love you, i told him first and well let’s just say he’s known for years.”
“well i mean it all works out right.” he smiles.
“yeah it does. it feels good to be yours.”
“same he- hey buddy what’s up.” he says holding out his fist for a small fan.
“you’re my favorite player ever!” the little boy confesses sporting a michigan hockey tshirt.
“thank you buddy.” he says squatting down for a picture with the young fan. he has small talk with his parents before they move onto the next.
“you’re so precious.” i whisper in his ear.
“well it helps because i’m happy you’re here with me.” he replies kissing me on the cheek.
-
present
“baby?” mackie yells walking in the door with his bag of gear.
“in here,” i replied from the bedroom. mackie and i made it official that day in october and ive been doing most of my school online.
“how’d you do on your exam?” he asks walking in, my eyes directing towards is damp, dark curls.
“i got an 87, so better than i thought.” i smiled.
“good i’m glad.” he says walking over and kissing me on the head and taking a seat next to me.
“i bought your christmas gift today.” he smiles.
“oh did you?”
“i sure did.”
“what’d you get me?”
“and that’s the question where i stop answering.” he laughs.
“damnit.” i reply.
“let’s go watch a movie baby.” he says shutting my laptop, and picking me up off the bed.
“didn’t even give me a chance to answer.”
“it wasn’t a question.” he laughs tossing me on the couch and climbing over me, laying his head on my chest, my fingers instinctively finding their way into his dark locks.
“you know what my mom told me at one of your games when we were little?” i say breaking the focus from the movie.
“no what’d she say?” he asks.
“i still remember her exact words, ‘you two will love each other for the rest of your lives babydoll’.”
“she said that?” he asks sitting up
“yes, i’ve loved you since i was 8 mackie. she was right and i never wanted to admit it to myself until that night of the draft but i never told you, i was too scared you wouldn’t feel the same.”
“would it kill you to say i’ve loved you since then too.” he laughs.
“no shot.”
“yep you heard me, since i was 9 years old. and draft night really confirmed it for me too, i waited patiently. and that one pool day, where we shared the sandwich? i was falling for you so hard y/n, like you don’t even understand.”
“wait really?” i giggle.
“yes oh my god, i didn’t wanna leave your bed or you. i just wanted to lay there together. i never wanted the boys to come back.” he laughs.
“how did it take us this long to get here?” i ask.
“it doesn’t matter how long it took, what matters is that we’re here, together, now, and i wouldn’t change a thing about it.” he smiles.
“what do you see in our future?” i ask him.
“well, getting married to you has been on my mind since i was like 13 but now that we’re adults that can actually happen.”
“oh really?” i laugh.
“yep, and we can start a family and buy a house and get a dog.”
“we could.” i smile at him pausing briefly, “i love you mackie.”
“i love you more.” he replies kissing me deeply.
and it turns out mom was right, we do love each other, and definitely for the rest of our lives.
220 notes · View notes
samoschier · 7 months
Text
perfect girl, ms25
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in which mackie spends the day with the sophomores best girl (set last season, 18+!!)
i feel the need to apologize for this but alas i will not,
enjoy! (this is 2.4k words of porn with no plot. mackie samo the man that you are)
your legs were sprawled over marks lap when a knock on the door stole your attention, a small tap to your thigh the force that brought it back
“probably food for mackie. bring it to him for me, hm?” you nodded softly, sliding off him and standing up, heading towards the door.
you bent to grab the bag, nodding to mark to confirm it was food, and then heading upstairs towards mackie’s door.
you knocked softly, waiting for his hum of approval before opening the door and stepping in, but not moving towards the bed.
a movie played on his tv and he’d been laser focused on it before you’d come in.
“hi, mack. i brought you your food,” you murmured, his eyes scanning you before he sat up and patted his lap, grinning
“thank you, baby. c’mere,” he said, confirming he wanted you on him.
you closed the door gently, shuffling over to the side of his bed and setting down the food as you found your way to his side, not on his lap but your legs laid over his.
he opened his bag and pulled out his meal, getting a couple bites in before he moved his fork toward your mouth and you blushed
“i’m ok, thank you,” he tilted his head, fork remaining in place.
“have some, baby. s’ good,” he insisted, moving the fork closer and raising his eyebrow at you. you parted your lips, letting him feed you and nodding after you’d finished, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“good,” you confirmed, earning a satisfied chuckle from mackie.
“d’you wanna watch my movie with me, baby? or is mark wanting you back,” he asked, looking down at you while piling his last bite of food, cleaning up his takeout container and setting it on his bedside table.
“wanna stay with you,” you mumbled, looking up at him with a small smile.
mackie had always taken good care of you. they all did, but mackie especially.
mark gave you the most attention, but he could get rough and distracted. ethan was a little all over the place, and you had a hard time reading what kind of mood he’d be in.
luke, despite often allowing you to steal his bed and clothes, only truly used you when he was having it really tough. dylan was sweet to you, but you found him quiet and a little too tame, though you loved him outside of your alone time
mackie took his time- he knew how to use his words and he controlled you in a way that meant you’d be sated. like he was telling you what he wanted, but it was only ever for your benefit
so if you had been given the option to spend a few hours with him, you’d take it in a heartbeat.
he laid down, pulling at your waist so you’d join him, wrapping his arm around you fully once you’d settled with your back against his chest.
the movie played quietly while you dozed off in his arms, his fingers eventually finding their way to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up around your hips and then moving to the band of your panties
your body shifted, subconsciously allowing him to slip them off you and throw them the the floor.
“you think i can just slip right in, baby? you’re fuckin’ made for me, won’t need to get you ready, hm?” his words went in one ear and out the other, your dazed hum confirmation enough for him.
so, he did as he said, gliding the head of his cock along your core a few times before pressing into you, a shocked gasp immediately slipping from your lips as you blinked tiredness from your eyes.
“mack- nh. mackie, you-“ your eyes fluttered shut again when he adjusted, but then kept still, a soft chuckle echoing in your ear.
“there’s a good girl,” he cooed, watching in awe as you squirmed to adjust to him. “just wanted you to warm me, baby. gonna stay right there with me inside you,”
a sweet moan tumbled from your lips as his hand ghosted over your stomach, barely grazing the bulge he was causing.
your head leaned back against his shoulder, eyes wide looking up at his with tears collecting on your waterline.
“shh, baby,” he soothed his hands along your hips gently, kissing your temple as you tried to relax into him now that you’d almost adjusted “feel full?”
you gulped, nodding to his question. “yeah? y’ can feel me stretchin’ you? feels good?” he smirked, tilting your jaw so you’d continue to look at him.
“so good, mack.. n’ deep- so, so deep,” you babbled, a small whine following your words. you’d wanted so badly for him to move- rock his hips a little. but he said he wanted you to warm him, so you listened.
“such a patient baby girl. so perfect f’ me,” he whispered, a little dazed and lost in his own control over you- but still maintaining it.
“watch the movie, baby,” he released your jaw, nodding to the tv screen and kissing your temple sweetly. you nodded, trying to keep your attention centred on the plot and not the aching wish that he’d move- just give you a little friction.
his phone buzzed with a text from the sophomore group chat, and a smirk found it’s way back to his lips.
from, estapa: princess still up with you, samo?
from, samo: watching a movie
from, eddie: fuckin hog
mackie chuckled to himself, kissing your temple again and mumbling your name into your ear sweetly. you hummed, sparing him a glance before letting your eyes drift to his phone that he’d set in front of you.
“you wanna give them a little show, baby?” you furrowed your eyebrows, not clueing in to what he meant until he opened his camera and adjusted your legs so your knees were up to your chest.
you moaned at the movement, watching his phone carefully as he angled it to snap a picture of him seethed inside you, your grown arousal drooling from your centre and leaving shining spots on your inner thigh
“fuck. prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen. can i show them, baby? show them how good you take me?” you bit your lip, contemplating his request as he readied the picture to send and hovered over the blue arrow
“only the sophomores?” you looked up at him, lip still slid between your teeth, this time with question.
he nodded “only for us, baby,” you nodded gently, watching as the picture sent with the message he’d typed
from, samo: attachment, 1 image
from, samo: warming me like she’s made for it
from, estapa: jfc
from, estapa: she’s fucking perfect
from, lukey: how can u not be moving
from, lukey: i’d have broken as soon as i started
from, eddie: she’s always so good for you
from, duker: fuck me shes pretty
from, samo: show that to anyone and i cut your dicks off
mackie chuckled as you squeezed around him, flustered at the compliments and desperate for him to start moving
“please, mack, i’ve been so good,” you blurted, his head cocking to the side. “i know you have, baby. gotta be patient with me, though,”
you fought the urge to whine at his denial, instead nodding obediently and trying to focus once more on the movie that was playing. if you’d seen it before, you were too distracted to piece together what it actually was.
he smiled, peppering your neck and shoulders with kisses and gently adjusting his hips, your walls immediately fluttering around him and a breathy whine of his name falling from your lips
“i love those pretty noises you make,” he murmured, his hips starting to rock back and forth, slowly but hard and deep. you reached for his hands, planted on your waist, and squeezed his wrist, crying out from pleasure
“mackie, mackie, it feels so good,” you squeezed both his hand and his cock, leaning your head back on his shoulder with your eyes fluttered shut
he hummed in appreciation, kissing your temple but keeping focused on his thrusts, moving his hand to your belly once more and adding a little pressure
you tried to squirm away, your eyes opening to look up at his and beg, to no avail. “you’re okay, baby, i’ve got you. bet that feels like heaven, hm?” he cooed, watching as your eyes watered again from the pressure building in the pit of your stomach
you only moaned in response, keeping eye contact with him for as long as he stayed looking down at you- his soft gaze a contrast from how harsh his thrusts were.
“you feel so good, baby girl. makin’ me feel so good. n’ you’re behaving like a pretty angel for me, such a good girl,” he praised, bringing his free hand up to cup your face and watch as you flushed, nodding
“jus’ wanna be perfect for you, mack. wan- nh, wanna be your good girl,” you cried, stuttering as his hand pressed harder on your stomach.
he pressed a soft kiss to your nose, pulling his head back when you leaned in to kiss his lips. you whimpered, moving your hands from his wrist to tangle into his hair and try again.
he obliged, the hand on your chin moving down to rub circles on your clit. you moaned into the kiss, tugging at his hair a little while your body started to writhe
you clamped your legs around his hand, pulling away from the kiss to moan, try and warn him how close you were. all you could get our way was stutters of his name or profanity
“shhh, baby. i know, i’ve got you. you can go ahead,” he whispered, cooing sweet nothings into your ear as you fell apart, thighs twitching and your walls suffocating him
he fucked you through it, getting ready to pull out as you caught your breath.
“no, no. stay, please stay inside” you begged, feeling him throb inside you and knowing he was close.
“i’ll come, baby. was gonna finish in your mouth,” you shook your head, choking on your lack of breath before finally finding your words and pleading with him
“want you to come inside. please? want you to fill me,” you begged, his pace having slowed down. both of your hands had moved to his lower back, trying to keep him seethed inside you
his hips twitched, a groan falling from his lips at your request.
“baby, you know i can’t. s’ against the rules,” he calmly explained, earning a sad look from you, leant on his shoulder. your hands made no effort to move and he kissed your forehead, trying to pull out of you.
“please, mack. please, s’ all i want. i’ve been so good. i won’t tell, i promise,” you knew he could’ve easily slipped out- he was stronger than you on any day, not to mention how fucked out you were
“you have been such a good girl for me, baby, so fuckin’ perfect all the time, but-“ your walls fluttered around him at the praise, his breath hitching while he tried to shake his head of the image of himself dripping from you
to no avail.
“fuck. okay, baby. i’ll come inside you. i’ll stuff you full of me n’ i want you on your back the second i pull out of that pretty pussy, alright? wanna watch you leak w’ me,”
you nodded quickly, your hands moving to grab onto his while his thrusts got a little rougher, your walls clenching around him while you felt your second orgasm near
“mack.. mackie, i- fuck” you moaned, a sweet chuckle coming from his lips before he focused on nipping at your shoulders, giving a little more pressure on your stomach
“so big, mh. full, feel so full,” you mumbled, doing your best to praise him into speeding up, your second release teetering on the edge.
“yeah? you like bein’ stretched, don’t you baby,” he quickly replied, pressing kisses to the marks he left on your shoulders and neck
“do you wanna come together, baby? m’ so close. feel so good squeezing me.. like im on top of the world,” he cooed, feeling your head nod immediately, your walls fluttering at the compliment
“alright, baby. one,” he paused, speeding up his thrusts “two. there you go, baby, you’ve got it,” he praised, watching as you struggled to adjust to his newfound pace
he murmured three, your body tensing during your orgasm as you tried to savour the feeling of him spilling into you.
he bit back his moans, a few whines slipping from his pressed lips as your body shook in his arms. you were a mess- haphazard moans of swears and his name breathy and beautiful as they fell, his cock aching at the way you were squeezing him
as you both came down, he let you catch your breath before pulling out of you, a sweet whine indicating your oversensitivity.
as told, you rolled onto your back and spread your legs for him, watching carefully as he got up and kneeled in front of you.
he kissed the inside of your knee, watching in awe as his load drooled from you, mixed with your own arousal.
“fuck, you’re so beautiful, baby. look at you,” he reached over for his phone once more, taking a picture of the mess he’d made of you. he flipped the phone, watching as your cheeks heated
“that one’s just for me, yeah? a reminder of how good you are just for me,” he soothed his hands along your thighs, still dazed at the sight in front of him.
you nodded in agreement, eyes fluttering in and out of sleep due to your exhaustion.
“alright, pretty baby. let’s get you in the bath. staying with luke tonight?” you shook your head weakly, reaching out for him and being given his hand.
“wanna stay with you,” he grinned, nodding and squeezing your hand like you had his.
“then you’ll stay with me, angel,”
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